


story about a lily

by Third_Rye



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Content Warning in the First Note at the End, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-05 23:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 63,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12804435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Third_Rye/pseuds/Third_Rye
Summary: Sometimes, to understand a work of literature, you have to start at the beginning.And another word for an incomplete work is fiction.One possible view of Yuri's history, if she had one.





	1. . story about a lily

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a diminutive monarch](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=a+diminutive+monarch).



The summer grass swayed, from on top of the hill.  
She saw the eyes of the deer, and the deer stared back at her.

It couldn't tell that she was looking at it, could it..?

Her grandfather patted her shoulder, and she steadied herself. In and out – calming. She wouldn't screw up, this time. The knife strapped to her waist promised her that. 

Crumpling to the ground, the deer fell over its own weight, dragging a trail of blood behind it as it limped off – but it was slow, and weakend, and panting. The smoke of the cigar would've given them away if it mattered anymore, but...

Grandfather's knife slid into its neck, and the deer stopped moving.  
Beaming, her grandfather smiled at her – pride obvious on his weathered face. She wasn't staring back, however –

For the trail of blood, seemingly without rhyme or reason, dredged against the forest floor...

Another pat on the shoulders, as her grandfather whispered, like the summer breeze –

“You did good. Yuri...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, and welcome to a story about a lily.
> 
> I wrote this for National November Write-Thingy Month; but time and constraints made it a bit shorter than I wanted. That being said, I still like it a lot, and wanted to share it with you all! Consider it a 'possible origin story' for Yuri; or Monika rolling the cosmic dice and fiddling with the RNG until she found a background for her that seemed 'right.'
> 
> There will be unpleasant, disturbing themes and descriptions in this.  
> Almost everything is subtle, but consider yourself warned for violence, and physical, mental, and emotional trauma.  
> DDLC covers some very dark themes, and we'll be treading similar ground, here. Above all - enjoy!


	2. I. The Decay of the Angel

“You know, Mashiro, the countryside... It seems smaller than I remember. Do you think so, too?”

It was amazing how quickly you could reach the countryside from the city, if you just drove like you had a reason to.  
And the heat was unbearable; another scorching-hot day, one that had felt like the bulbous sun itself might descend from the sky, and just...

Her father sighed, and lay back in the passenger seat.  
He rarely drove, and she'd never understood why; but then again, father seemed laid-back like that.  
It was just another thing she loved about him..!

Mother was the type to take everything head-on, so of course, the heat – probably would've seem like a personal challenge, if the car's air conditioning hadn't been absolutely great.  
The way she always referred to her father by his last name...  
  
It was a sort of endearment in her mother's peculiar way, Yuri thought.  
  
“Kyoko! The countryside is a vast and unknowable landscape, full of fun adventure! Just like your old man, I'm gonna get down with the soil and – become a real man's man!”  
  
“A man's man... So, not the man I married..? Disappointing...”  
  
Her mother's smirk was perfectly accented by her choice of lipstick, and Yuri wondered if she'd ever be beautiful like her mother; though her mother had always told her that beauty was a struggle –  
  
If you were to let up, for even an instant, nobody would think you beautiful, anymore.  
  
“Mom..! Please don't fight with dad...”  
  
Father made that nervous titter of a laugh he got whenever he was happy, and mother just – glanced once, over her shoulder, and Yuri slid back into her seat, arms crossed against her chest.  
  
“We're not fighting anyway, Yuri.”  
  
“Then why'd we leave the city?”  
  
She complained for the hundredth time – maybe the thousandth time.  
She didn't really mind, but Yuri had just been starting to make friends, there – and though she made friends easily enough, leaving them felt – kind of cruel, really.  
  
Like she hadn't really loved them; like a personal failing.  
  
Mother sighed, and Yuri was sure she was thinking of a cigarette, but she hadn't smoked for some time, supposedly. Because of her – because of Yuri's birth!..  
Well, that's what everyone told Yuri, anyway; and she felt honoured by it, so...  
  
“Well, your grandfather's business dealings weren't entirely proper. We don't agree with that, of course!”  
  
That weird little pause, whenever an adult lied, assuming that a child wouldn't notice.  
To spare their feelings, or to hide their own thoughts.  
Yuri hated it – were all lies so... Terribly transparent?  
  
“... But, there is some truth in it, and that means... Both your father and I would be better off working in a new place. This way, by stepping down, we're also protecting your grandfather.”  
  
“Is that really so? That... Sounds like a lie.”  
  
Nervous laughter, both from her mother and her father.  
She'd always been good at ferreting out their little half-truths, of course, but, they never had any real rebuttal for it.  
  
… Fine.  
  
“Anyway, uh, listen here, Yuri. Even if we have to work a little harder, we're all gonna be together under one roof! Won't that be great?”  
  
_“Yes..!”_  
  
Of course, she was still a child; and though she was almost thirteen, it didn't take a whole lot to make her happy, truly happy.  
  
The prospect of spending her days and nights with both of her parents, even if mother occasionally got a little tipsy and tried to sing, or father ended up doing that weird thing where he got – really excited about a topic that she didn't understand and just started, rambling and rambling, and rambling...  
  
She loved both of them.  
  
So much.  
  
And so, even if she'd had to abandon her old friends, even if they all forgot about her, this was fine.  
She was – truly happy..!  
  
“Do you think grandfather'll join us, too?”  
  
“It's not impossible.”  
  
Mother begin, a little wistfully.  
  
“But – this is a very hard thing for a girl to understand, okay? You should just worry about your studies, and then a sophisticated gentleman like your father might take interest in you!”  
  
“I'm a... Sophisticated gentleman, huh? Kyoko, you probably shouldn't lie to our daughter - “  
  
“Mother! I'm not interested in a... A gentleman like dad! I just wanna play in the woods all day...”  
  
“Oho, watch out, Kyoko! Our wild child's gonna become a big game hunter!”  
  
“Ugh, of all the things – I can't believe such a man has a gun license, yet he couldn't even keep his...”  
  
She saw the good-natured smiles stay fixated on their faces, the careful dance of eyes.  
Eyes were her biggest allies; when they stopped shining, for a minute, things had gone poorly.  
And when they glanced at each other, like that...  
  
“Well, Mashiro isn't exactly a gentleman, but surely there's some kind of boy you liked? Junichi and you did seem rather close...”  
  
“Junichi can't keep up with me. I don't like him _that_ much.”  
  
She sniffed, and lay back in her seat until she was half-sludged between it, and the ground.  
Her feet kicked up at the air, and they drove in silence – passing row after row of fields, a shopping district...  
  
“Wow, it's really degenerated a bit, hasn't it...”  
  
Mother's tone didn't even try to hide her disappointment.  
That was probably how the country always was; Yuri had read that this sort of thing was common.  
For every great philosopher who preached the importance of rural life...  
  
It kind of seemed like a place you went to die.  
  
Which made no sense, to her.  
Shouldn't, even when things went poorly, you want to live?  
  
“Oh, it's not that bad, Kyoko. I can see the local liquor-shoppe is looking quaint and classic as ever! We can go get something special for date night! And just imagine, I bet the food here is really good, too – “  
  
“I'm going to learn to cook!”  
  
Yelled Yuri, determined, and her parents burst out laughing.  
This time, she was utterly serious, though...  
  
“Anyway, isn't it said... No man is going to like you if you can't make food...”  
  
She wondered if that was really how it'd went, but then again, the truth was that she'd been terribly bored by the Analects, and kind of just skimmed through them.  
Not that she hadn't sworn she'd re-read them eventually, but –  
  
“My, at first you're going to only find a strong husband, but now you've become a demure housewife-to-be! I'm glad you know we'll encourage you, Yuri, but... Please try to focus!”  
  
“I am focused, mom... I'm gonna be _everything!_ ”  
  
Her mother covered her mouth to hide her laughter, as they rolled past row after row of houses.  
In other countries, she'd read that the countryside usually had just – fields and homesteads on it.  
Of course, here...  
  
It almost felt like the city, and home – with house after house neighboring each other.  
  
Yuri smiled, and kicked her feet until she was back, upright, in her seat.  
Which house would be theirs, which house was going to be their new home..?  
  
They looked very similar, but appearances didn't really matter.  
What mattered was that it was home, home, home..!  
  
“Oh, oh, no – please don't tell me I left the keys back home...”  
  
Her mother whispered as they pulled in front of one of the small, interchangeable houses.  
Small wasn't the right word – it was still bigger than their house in the city.  
But...  
  
“Don't worry, Kyoko. I got you covered! Hehe, I saw a locksmith before we moved in, because, hey, if we ended up – like that one time, in Sendai...”  
  
Her parents shared a smile, and her father stepped out of the car as it pulled to a stop.  
He always got out before it finished moving, which – bothered her!  
Didn't he know that was dangerous?  
  
Why did people do things they knew were dangerous, anyway?  
  
But he seemed as excitable as she was as he nearly skipped up the driveway, humming that popular song they'd heard four or five times on the radio.  
Gingerly, he turned the key, and – the door swung open.  
  
Yuri and her mother traded nervous smiles.  
  
A new life, out in the countryside...  
  
The card door swung open, and she stepped out into the boiling hot summer air.  
Her jumper felt oddly immaterial against the heat, and she wished that there were clothes that made you cooler; though the night was coming, and would bring the lovely gift of cold air.  
  
Inhale, exhale.  
  
She wondered if every small town smelled like this – fallen leaves and something smoky, in the distance, and that peculiar mixture of bug-scent and rust and decay.  
It was absolutely beautiful -  
  
\- And Yuri fell in love.  
  
“Mail already, goodness... Mashiro! You forgot to pick up the mail!”  
  
“... You're kidding me, wife. A man's own house before him, and I couldn't be bothered to check the mail! Don't you know – a man's house... This is really important for me!”  
  
“For us, too. Yuri's probably a little nervous, aren't you, Yuri..?”  
  
“... No...”  
  
Said Yuri, and her mother shrugged.  
  
“Well, apparently she's not nervous at all! Our fearless little lily! In that case, why don't you help your father do – whatever it is he's doing, while I get the mail?”  
  
“Okay!”  
  
Her footsteps as she ran towards her father were quick, each one sending her nearly tumbling over the other, but she felt amazing – this was it, they were here!  
Even if it'd been a melancholy journey, now there new life was going to begin – right?  
  
He smiled, and gave her hair – which she'd grown out to her shoulders – a quick tousle.  
  
“A new home for all of us... I think it's a little scary, even if you don't, Yuri. But I'm really glad you chose us. Your mother and I tried so hard to have a child, so...”  
  
“Dad...”  
  
Yuri whined.  
  
It was embarrassing, he kept repeating this story like it mattered, but she never understood what made it important.  
Besides that, she disagreed.  
Children couldn't somehow choose their parents – even if her parents believed in all that, she felt it was -  
  
“Oh, okay, okay! You've heard this before! Your old man will cry, one of these days! And how are you going to feel about that, little miss?”  
  
“Bad... I don't like it when you cry...”  
  
She answered half-heartedly.  
  
The white paint of the house was like any other house in the row; indistinct and somewhat bland.  
She didn't hate it, but it didn't have any... Ambience, was the word she knew she wanted.  
The – soul, the vitality of it, all were lacking.  
  
“Excuse'm. You're... Takahashi, right. And Takahashi's wife... Uh...”  
  
“Kyoko.”  
  
Her mother replied from where she was standing, near the mailbox, dark eyes clouded.  
  
The man who'd wandered over from the house so nearby that they shared an alleyway between them was...  
A bit older than her father, and probably looked older because he'd lead a hard life.  
  
His skin was crackly and he was missing a few teeth, and he smelled faintly of vinegar, but he had a gentle smile – though Yuri didn't trust smiles.  
They weren't honest, like eyes.  
  
… But his eyes seemed soft, too, maybe because the rest of him wasn't.  
  
“Yamamura. M'wife and I were gonna set out a vegetable basket for you. T'movers you hired were so busy, though; didn't get a chance. What were you sending down here? Bricks?”  
  
“Books. My daughter reads avidly! Oh, uh, right, sir. Takahashi.”  
  
That weird ritual played out, her father rummaging around in his pocket for a card.  
Yamamura took it, glanced at it, but didn't do the usual thing where he returned it and gave her father his own -  
  
He just kinda nodded, looking as nonplussed as she felt.  
  
“Oh, right. Isn't your old man - “  
  
“My wife's father. Let's not talk about that in front of my daughter, though?”  
  
“... Don't see t'harm in it. But, your child, s'pose. Uh, anyway, you won't get too many nosy people here. M'wife and I keep our eyes to ourselves!”  
  
“Really...”  
  
Her father begin, a little uncertainly.  
  
Yamamura laughed – hollered? – and thumped his hand against his chest.  
  
“Mmm! Well, we like getting together for events. She's up in the mornings but m'back acts up then, so you'll see'r tomorrow. Outside of that, town's nice. You can start over there, Takahashi. It's a good place t'raise a kid.”  
  
“...”  
  
Though her father didn't look – happy, exactly, at how far and how quickly news had traveled, the rest of the sentence had lifted his spirits a little, the usual enthusiasm returning to his face as he shook Mr. Yamamura's hand.  
  
“Well, in that case, we'll be counting on you! My daughter likes local festivities and things like that, don't you, Yuri?”  
  
“I do!”  
  
Yuri said, beaming!  
There was nothing she liked better, actually!  
Even if they'd only been made up a few years ago to pretend that a region was more interesting than it actually was...  
  
Getting people together to have fun, making new friends..!  
  
Mr. Yamamura grinned.  
  
“Well, that's a treat. T'both of you'll fit in right fine. Mmn, and yourself too, ma'am. Well, uh, here's the basket, then. S'a bit ripe, but, the shallots are the best. So...”  
  
His head bowed, Mr. Yamamura excused himself, leaving only the three of them as he walked – hobbled, really – slowly off.  
  
The moment he'd flipped the door back into his house shut, her mother hid her unbidden, tiny laughter behind her hand.  
  
“I didn't know they still made guys like that... What a fellow... Hey, Mashiro, do you think his wife is the same?”  
  
“Not impossible. But, well, they seem like they mean well?”  
  
“... Ah. Right.”  
  
The usual cloud that came over her mother's face from time to time returned, and she whispered something to her father, who swallowed back air.  
  
“Well, we can talk about that later. For now! Yuri, let's go check out the inside of our new house! I bet you can't wait to see your old friends, right?”  
  
“RIGHT!”  
  
Yelled Yuri, and practically ran into the door the moment it opened –  
  
And there it was.  
That wonderful image she'd constructed for herself, that she'd known she'd find.  
The smell of old books, against new shelves.  
All her old friends were there, each and every one!  
Not a page out of place!  
  
Oh, and – and the house itself was pleasant, too!  
There was a living room, and a dining room, and a kitchen!  
All on the lower floor!  
Above that, her own room, too, absolutely her own!  
  
She ran up the stairs, unable to contain herself.  
  
Now that she was going to become a real woman, her own woman, she wanted to have her own room – it was proper, right, and –  
  
… Very empty.  
  
Which was the best – because it meant it was an empty page for her to spill black ink onto, and make her own.  
  
Smiling, she threw herself down on her bed, and stared up at the ceiling.  
  
Even here, it was the same – different, but the same.  
So...  
  
Truly, she'd come home.  
  
…  
  
Downstairs, though...  
  
Both of her parents had gone silent – she could always tell that something'd come up when that happened.  
Her parents didn't get angry at one another, didn't yell or shout, usually.  
They got – quiet, and did she...  
  
Want to risk dealing with that, right now...  
  
But Yuri was nothing if not brave, and forced herself back down the stairs. Her father was already outside the door, and her mother was putting back on her coat –  
  
Ah. So they'd be gone, for awhile...  
  
Her mother frowned, and walked over to Yuri, the tap-tap-tap of her heels sounding like a knife's edge.  
  
“Honey... You're going to have to look after yourself tonight, okay? Don't open up the door for anyone, we'll let ourselves back in, later. There's – instant noodles in the cupboard, is that going to be okay...”  
  
“I don't wanna eat instant noodles, but I will.”  
  
Yuri said with the determination that only a child could present – and a bit of colour returned to her mother's face, and that immaculately prepared smile.  
  
“... You're the best, Yuri. I don't know what we did to deserve you. Just – I'm sorry we have to go, right now, but it's really important, okay?”  
  
“Is it about – grandpa...”  
  
Silence reigned, and mother slowly shut her eyes.  
With hesitation, Yuri carefully glanced to her side, to the letters strewn across the table.  
  
She loved words, of course, so it was easy enough to make out even the difficult ones, like laundering.  
  
…  
  
“Don't worry, mom. I'll... Make sure everything is okay here! If anybody comes in, I'll defend the honour of the household!”  
  
“Oh, please don't go that far, Yuri! Instead, why not just – relax with some television, okay?”  
  
But Yuri didn't like the television, something she couldn't quite explain to her parents, who seemed to spend all their free time watching it – when they were around, at least.  
… Still, mother probably had a point about not – accidentally stabbing Mr. or Mrs. Yamamura, and anyway, it wasn't like she had a naginata –  
  
“All right. Please be safe.”  
  
Yuri whispered, and her mother knelt down to hug her.  
Would she always be this short? Her mother was just the right height, not too tall, and not too short.  
Yuri felt her mother could've been a model, but Yuri also felt that was probably her own bias –  
  
“Everything is going to be just fine, Yuri. Let's meet up again, soon, all right?”  
  
“Yes...”  
  
Replied Yuri, and then, in a moment's instance, she was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, I wanted to capture the element of what seems to be a pretty caring family life.  
> You aren't going to see her parents very often, but then again, you should be noticing them by their absence.  
> She certainly does.


	3. II. The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Coming to terms with the two images of grandfather she'd held was difficult.  
On the one hand was the grandfather that she'd seen, who was 'eccentric' and funny and loved his granddaughter.  
  
But – despite the fact that everyone seemed to think she didn't – she understood the charges just fine.  
And the fact that he hadn't done it alone, but had conspired with other men in the family business...  
  
And why?  
They – lived comfortably, and he'd just kept his head down, on the televised interview.  
  
“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”  
  
Like – a broken record, with none of the spirit she'd remembered in him.  
The newscasters were being decried as vultures by talking heads – who, well, weren't _they_ basically news, too?  
But for the masses? – _but..._  
  
She could understand it, if she were honest.  
… Her beloved grandfather had – ruined the lives of lots of people in the city they'd left, apparently.  
  
And she could love the kindly grandfather she knew, and hate the fact that he was a man who'd made her parents so sad.  
Simple.  
She was adaptable, she'd be a great adult –  
  
The flicker of the television screen as it died pleased her.  
It had been her only other constant companion in the lonely nights, but with the news about her family drying up, she didn't need it anymore.  
  
… Ah, she could smell the instant noodles cooking from over here..!  
  
Returning to her room, she greeted her newest friend – all plastic and glass.  
  
Apparently, some people used them for playing around, but...  
Also apparently, she had a long way to go before she'd be at all like her favourite writers.  
  
Laughing to herself, Yuri ate her dinner, and lay back in bed.  
  
Would her mother or father call her today, maybe...  
  
Tomorrow, school started.  
It was strange, how it was timed to start just as the summer harvest ended.  
But how many people actually worked like the Yamamura's did?  
  
It was all – strange. Ritualistic.  
Pointless.  
  
She puffed out her cheek, and stared at the ceiling. So many lines, and they never formed anything interesting...  
  
But she was too tired to sleep, and too excited, as well.  
  
Yawning, she tried to force herself to rest, but – well, it was difficult!  
Why was it difficult?  
Why couldn't people just – have a switch or something, and when you flicked it, you'd sleep or dream...  
  
With a sigh, Yuri got out of her bed, and paced over to her desk.  
Next to the computer, several small boxes were strewn – each one pretty and ornate in their own way.  
  
She'd collected six, so far – the next she'd found would be her seventh.  
Her seventh knife, her first knife from the country!..  
  
Idly, she removed the first one from its box, and turned it over in her hands, carefully.  
  
Both her mother and her grandfather had stressed the importance of treating them carefully, especially after her father had accidentally cut his finger open!  
  
Laughing at the memory of their faces, Yuri carefully hugged the blade to her chest.  
It was cold, like the night air, and that made her happy.  
Cool air – always made her happy, like an impending rain, like a thunderstorm.  
  
A seventh knife...  
  
Were there – country blacksmiths, she wondered...  
  
Would there be some mature blacksmith's son, a wandering vagabond with a poetic heart...  
  
She wanted to sleep. But she couldn't sleep.  
And so, her very first day of school –  
  
Yuri winced as she left the house in a haze.  
She hadn't cleaned up well at all, last night, failing her duty as the house's guardian in her parents' absence, but there'd been – so much on her mind...  
  
“OooOoer, young miss! Excuse'm, young miss!”  
  
Mrs. Yamamura was running towards her in the pre-dawn light, and despite the weight of age and, well, weight, she could really run!  
Yuri thought that was pretty cool, and immediately drew to a stiff stop.  
  
_One always respected her elders, after all.  
  
_ “... Hoo... Hoo... Don't give us a scare like that. You forgot your bookbag! Don't think your parents'd be happy with us, if we'd let you go on to school without that!”  
  
“Oh...”  
  
Yuri's eyes widened in horror.  
How could she have left her books behind her?  
  
Even though her schoolbooks were hardly the kind of reading most people liked, she adored them.  
In history, she learned things that sent her to read entirely new authors; mathematics was fascinating because it explained the world.  
  
No, she loved every single book, and of course – she also carried at least one friend with her, wherever she went!  
  
Bowing her head low, Yuri mumbled out a thanks, then bit her lip and said, a bit louder –  
  
“Thank you very much, Mrs. Yamamura. I truly appreciate your kindness.”  
  
“Y'really don't have to be so formal, little miss. You sound so... Hoity toity when you say things like that!”  
  
“... Oh, but I like how I...”  
  
Mumbled Yuri, and then threw her hands against her hips.  
  
“I'll... Talk however I want!”  
  
At that, Mrs. Yamamura doubled over her own gut in – friendly? – laughter, laughing until she cried.  
What had been so funny?  
Was it her determination, or...  
  
“Well, you do as you please. But y'really should speak normally, little miss. And! Don't forget to eat somethin' green once in awhile!”  
  
The latter was half-yelled as Yuri wandered over to the bus stop, and Yuri winced in embarrassment.  
Had they already figured out that she, that her diet –

But it was fine.  
Mother and father had existed on instant food and frozen meals for a long time.  
So...  
  
“Hey.”  
  
A young boy, her own age, jostled past her, and sat down at the stop.  
He had a shaved head, and it looked really awful on him, but kind of cool at the same time?..  
  
“... Hey, your... Yourself.”  
  
“You trying to fight with me? I'll fight you!”  
  
_Ah_ – so they really were in the country!..  
  
“I'll fight you back!”  
  
She yelled, and so ensued the world's worst and shortest 'fight' – both parties lunging forward in what turned into an ungainly and fortunately short-lived headbutt.  
Each, in turn, fell to the ground as the bus slowly wheezed in to the station.  
  
…  Luck had it that they were seated next to each other, and she'd been purposely glancing away from him, purposely glancing away from her, for the entirety of the ride into school.  
  
Finally, he started growling and gnashing his teeth, and held out his hand.  
  
“I'm Gorou, but you can call me Daigorou, 'cause I'm great!”  
  
“... All, all right, Daigorou...”  
  
“What, y'actually - “  
  
“My name is Yuri. I'm going to be... The most powerful person in this town, so... You better... Remember my name...”  
  
“Th' – th' most powerful, really...”  
  
For a minute, Daigorou paused, looking nervous.  
She'd said each word with iron-clad determination, what had he thought?  
That she was joking?  
  
Quickly, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes shut, Daigorou sniffed dismissively.  
  
“A city girl like you... No way you can be stronger than I am. I won't accept it. Nope.”  
  
“Then I won't give you the choice! I'll beat you down until...”  
  
With a frightful roar, the bus clattered to a halt.  
Every single student on it, and the driver, as well, all looked as if they were going to have some kind of minor stroke – but thankfully, even as the wheels seemed to deflate around them...  
  
“Uh, well... Y'can try, but I guess we're friends now, right?”  
  
“Right!”  
  
She took his hand and shook it, just like mother or father shook the hands of a new business colleague!  
Her first friend!  
  
… Well, her first friend that wasn't made of paper or steel –  
  
“Mmn, well, so... I'll see you at school, but... I'm not gonna walk with a girl, so...”  
  
“Oh... That's okay. I understand.”  
  
Actually, she didn't and it seemed stupid, but she also didn't care?  
Just who did this guy think he was, anyway?  
She'd almost beaten him!  
If the bus hadn't intervened...  
  
But, she felt a little good, and a little proud of herself, as she walked off the bus, bookbag jangling merrily against her back.  
  
Every day here – was going to be an incredible day, wasn't it...  
  
“Rise!”  
  
In the end, though, school was school – in the city or in the country.  
The same usual routine, only sometimes they had to shuffle classes together to make space, and the teachers didn't seem quite as interested in the curriculum...  
  
Which was fine, since she was going to learn it all on her own, anyway.  
If she got anything less than high marks, she'd be letting down her family name..!  
  
One of the classes she shared had a lot of younger kids in it, though. Not that much younger – maybe two years?  
But there was this one girl who seemed like – a real weak girl.  
  
A crybaby.  
  
Whatever the reason for it, Yuri couldn't help but feel like it wasn't fair, bunching the serious students (herself) in with the distracting ones (pinky, over there).  
In her ideal world, the constantly sniffly girl would be confined to her own class, as would Yuri, but...  
  
She wasn't sure what hers would be like, only that it'd be really great and cater to her incredible intellect.  
  
With the smug, self-certain smile that only the young can possess, she lay back in her seat and idly let the pen she held dance between her fingertips, just like the cool trick she could do with a knife –  
  
“... Miss Mashiro?”  
  
… Eh? _Eh?  
  
_ “Unless you want to spend all day twirling that pen, if you could just answer the question. I'll make it easy: Nobunaga's favoured aide...”  
  
The crybaby slammed her tiny fists against the table, all prior cowardice gone.  
Her smirk was undauntable, the smile of a victorious conquerer, and for some reason it infuriated Yuri, more than she'd thought possible –  
  
“Well, any _child_ knows that's Mori Ranmaru! You'd understand if you read Jump!”  
  
“Putting aside where you gleaned that knowledge... And that Mashiro was supposed to answer the question...”  
  
And the teacher burbled onwards, but Yuri could feel the heat on her face as the crybaby slowly lay back in her seat, humming quietly to herself.  
Then – then, she had the gall, to...  
  
With a wink and smirk that implied it couldn't be helped, the crybaby went back to ignoring the teacher and reading some – children's comicbook...  
  
“... Urgh...”  
  
Yuri murmured, under her breath.  
Humiliation aside, by a younger girl, no less –  
  
She really should've been paying attention, though, shouldn't she?  
  
The thought stayed with her even as the period drew to a close, and she found herself wandering aimlessly through the cafeteria, lost in thought.  
Daigorou was sitting with a few of his friends in the corner, and she kind of wanted to join them, without asking, but –  
  
Her tray slammed in front of her as she sat next to the young girl with the rosy hair.  
  
What an ugly, pastel colour.  
  
…  
  
“... You're my arch-enemy.”  
  
Said Yuri, with the utter coldness such a line demanded.  
Now that she had a better chance to get a look at her 'rival' – however...  
There was something a bit off, about her.  
Her skin was a little – taut, for lack of a better word, and the tearstains she'd had earlier...  
  
Well, didn't matter.  
  
“Yeah, sure. Fine... It's not like I'm some dumb-dumb who can't even pay attention in class...”  
  
“I... I can pay attention in class, you just distracted me with your inelegant blubbering!”  
  
“What are you even saying? In – Ineloquent?”  
  
Pinky sneered, and – without warning – snatched an apple from Yuri's tray!  
  
“You don't even have the force of mind to protect your food. I bet you waste it all the time too, don't you? Loser.”  
  
_“OoOOooooOOooooOoo...”  
  
_ Murmured Yuri with an intense frown, hiding behind her bangs.  
For some reason, though – she made no move to get the apple back, even as the runt devoured it greedily.  
  
“So, did y'... Did you not know about Ranmaru? 'Cause – Because we learned that last year, here. You should know, since you're older than me.”  
  
“I knew! I was just – “  
  
“Oh, you're a space-case. Got it.”  
  
This girl – why was she even wasting time with her?!  
  
“Well... Space case... I'm Natsuki.”  
  
“Oh... That's a pretty name... This season must really suit you, huh?”  
  
“Tsch. I hate the summer...”  
  
Silence passed between them, and Yuri tried to restrain her anger.  
This girl – knew just how to turn anything into a fight, and it was completely _her_ fault...  
  
“Fine, well, I'm Yuri! If you ever want to have a conversation that isn't... Meaningless and vapid, you can... Seek me out! But if you're going to just one-up me..! I might as well leave my food here, and go off to... To train in the mountains, or something!”  
  
“W' – What the...”  
  
The entire room glanced, then unglanced; how skillful are the eyes of people to see a scene, and immediately recognise that there's no need to look too closely?  
Huffing off angrily, Yuri left her food behind her.  
  
Stupid girl.  
Stupid runt.  
Stupid Ranmaru.  
  
What had he even done of note, anyway, stupid – everything.  
  
… She'd found herself at the end of the hallway, where the corridor shifted into an extra club room, currently unused.  
Ah! Perfect.  
  
The anger fleeing her face almost instantly, Yuri sat down against the ground and pulled a book from her bag; it was the translation of some work by a certain French author, and she wanted to believe that the translation was the very best, even if it wasn't.  
  
A story of romantic adventure, and revenge...  
  
Had Dantès ever had to suddenly come up with the name of some dead Japanese historical figure on the spot?  
No, of course not.  
It was all beneath her –  
  
Tap, tap, tap. The slow and curious pause of footsteps, nervously.  
One after the other – heavily, like someone uncertain about what they were doing.  
… No, the footsteps of somebody entirely uncertain about what they were doing.  
  
“Y'left really quick. Is everything all right?”  
  
“Oh... Daigorou...”  
  
“Don't – Y'don't have to call me that...”  
  
His face red, Daigorou looked away.  
It made his awkward shave look even worse.  
It wasn't like he had stubble, like father or older men had, so what was the point of shaving his head?  
Was it because he didn't like hair..?  
  
“But I'm going to, Daigorou. Uhmn... Why did you come here?”  
  
“C'mon, don't make me say it!”  
  
“... I'm going to make you say it.”  
  
“Ugh!”  
  
Even as one child looking at another child, there was something incredibly awkward about watching a boy kicking at the door with a spindly leg.  
Maybe one day, it'd fill out and look impressive or cool, but –  
  
“I was worried 'bout you, all right?! I can't let the girl that nearly beat me just... Get in over her head!”  
  
“Oh...”  
  
He had been – worried about her?  
  
…  
  
To be honest, she wasn't sure how she felt about that.  
She wasn't actually feeling bad, and she'd – put on that show, maybe for the other girl... For Natsuki's benefit.  
And even if his intentions were good, hadn't they just met?  
  
But – but it was also kind of... Charming, maybe even –  
  
Heroic, in a way...  
  
With a cough, she pushed aside her shoulder-length hair, glad of how dark it was.  
Since her face was quite pale, at least it hid her blushing, well.  
  
“Uhmn... Well, I guess that's okay, then. Do you want to...”  
  
“D'ywanna.”  
  
“That's impossible to understand!”  
  
“Nah. You're impossible to understand. You speak like my grandma.”  
  
“... Well, maybe you should... Show your grandmother some respect?! After all, it's your grandmother, so – her place is quite important – “  
  
“Are you just rambling? Nothing you say makes sense.”  
  
Scratching the back of his head, Daigorou sighed and sat down next to her, brown eyes darting from her to the book she held.  
  
“That's a bigg'n. What's it about, anyway?”  
  
Even though she'd only been listening to him a little, her eyes glanced up from the text.  
Gingerly, she placed the paper clip of the mascot character father liked in between the pages, shut it, and placed it against her lap.  
  
Deep breath; inhale, exhale.  
  
“It's about – oh, goodness... There's so much that I don't know where to start, there's – a complex web of characters, betrayal, revenge, infamy... Starting at the beginning, there's...”  
  
Yuri trailed off as Daigorou held up his hand, the other one rubbing at his temple.  
  
“Could you just shut up for a moment? Y'talk too much.”  
  
“... Oh, oh...”  
  
“Better. I guess that sounds okay. I guess. But wouldn't you rather do something?”  
  
Her lips pursed, one against the other.  
On the cover of the book, the foreign gentleman with his chiseled brow and look of confusion, or perhaps neglect, stared back at her.  
  
She slid the book back into her bag, smiled, and nodded at him.  
  
“I'm... Pretty strong, you know. So... Yes, I love to do things.”  
  
“Well, if y'wanna, a few of the guys and me like to go hunting mushrooms n'stuff, so, if you wanted to come along...”  
  
Ah, and he was even blushing a bit – was this, technically, a date?  
She – wasn't sure how to respond, and of course mother and father weren't around to give her any sort of advice, but...  
Smiling, Yuri gave his shaved head a gentle pat.  
  
“Okay... I'd like to do that.”  
  
“ _YES!_ I mean, mmn!”  
  
With that, and a stiff bow, Daigorou ran out of the room, so quickly that she could have sworn he left an afterimage in his wake. And Yuri –  
  
As always, Yuri found herself alone with her thoughts.  
Was this a date, then, or just a trip between herself and some guys? It would be nice to play and find out what the area was like, when she'd spent so much time with only her books around her...  
  
Her face lit up.  
  
Well, Dantès could wait.  
Life was short and peculiar, and she wasn't sure if Daigorou was really as great as he proclaimed but – she'd made her first friend, today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think being precocious is one of those things that people think is cutesy, and I guess it can be.  
> But being dismissed as pretentious when you really love something, and there's no pretense (aha!) about it? That's - awful.  
> Which is why books are such great friends.
> 
> Even when you're in a new place, and you don't feel at home, they'll still be there for you.  
> And if you want to spend time with somebody? They'll wait for you.


	4. III. Moscow-Petushki

Around them, the green woods of summer in decline stretched in every direction; it seemed that the town itself simply ceased to exist, once you walked so far away.  
  
The clothesline hanging scenically behind Daigorou's place – which was quite a walk away, in another direction, at that..! – had vanished soon after their little group had left on the 'expedition to pacify the woodlands!' which had soon become the 'expedition to find some bugs and stuff.'  
  
Yuri was the only girl present, but she didn't feel especially alone.  
Actually, she really liked bugs and insects and things like that, so – she fit right in!  
Even spiders were cute, really...  
  
And they helped in the garden, so –  
  
Hiroki's dog, Koro, started barking frantically.  
Yuri looked up from where she'd been rooting around in the earth, the dirt falling from her fingers in strands of brown.  
  
The boys were gathered around something.  
Her fingers rubbed soil against the pleats in her skirt as she paced behind their backs, trying to get a better vantage point – none of them seemed willing to move aside, to allow her a better view.  
  
But she saw it, in the end.  
  
Some wild cat, that had gone feral or been born without a family, had fallen into a ditch.  
No. It hadn't fallen into it – it'd been left there, by some larger animal, that had taken vast bites out of its flesh.  
  
Matted hair was covered with dirt, and blood, and something else.  
Hiroki's face, in contrast, was green – the young boy looking as if he felt nauseous.  
He excused himself, and turned away – finally allowing her a place to stand.  
  
“... Hey, I kinda wanna mess with it.”  
  
Daigorou started, and another boy nodded.  
  
With hesitant fingers, he picked up a stick on the ground, and poked the cat in the side – it made a weak, hesitant mewling sound and twitched, breathing hoarsely.  
  
…  
  
“Neat. Do it again.”  
  
The other boy said, breathlessly.  
Another had wandered off, so there were only herself, Daigorou, that boy and another.  
  
Of course, it was only the four of them, but it felt like a crowd.  
Daigorou passed the stick to his friend, who couldn't even bring himself to poke the cat, but just – held it out in front of him, waving like it was a toy.  
  
Her lip stung, tasted a little like blood.  
  
“I'll... Go next.”  
  
“Woah, are you serious?!”  
  
Daigorou's face grew shocked, and the other boys stared at her like she'd revealed some secret aura, the other two mumbling amongst themselves, excitedly...  
Probably.  
  
She wasn't entirely certain what they were saying, but occasionally, the sly glances of their eyes...  
  
“... Yes. I'd like to go.”  
  
“Oh, man, oh... Huh, all right.”  
  
He moved aside, and she stared at the cat.  
One of its eyes was incredibly glassy – the fogged over look she'd seen so many times before.  
It stared at her, and couldn't talk, but she understood perfectly.  
  
After all, it wanted to live, but it couldn't.  
  
There was no reason, then...  
  
Koro's barking gave her the chance she needed.  
It wasn't the same as the deer, and she – she didn't know how she felt.  
Only that as the last light faded from the eyes of the cat...  
  
It was horrifically beautiful.  
  
The most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.  
  
“... Yuri, what the hell! You broke it!”  
  
“Sor... Sorry. My hand slipped and I must've picked a sharp stick. She was in pretty bad shape, anyway.”  
  
“What the hell, what do you mean – ah, man, guys, is that old man Nagura...”  
  
Daigorou's voice cracked as the boys split up without any plan or warning; whomever old man Nagura was, it was clear that he was more dangerous than even a 'sharp stick' could've been.  
The blood wiped cleanly on the pleats of her skirt, much like anything else.  
  
You always cleaned a knife after dirtying it, after all.  
  
…  
  
She was amazed that they all ran, after being willing to do something so cowardly, but then again, she was uncertain why she didn't.  
Maybe it was just the thought of running with dark stains on her skirt looking suspicious, maybe it was curiousity.  
  
An old man – older than Mr. and Mrs. Yamamura, maybe older than grandfather, stumbled through the woods, with a dog that was much fluffier than Koro.  
He had a full beard, and tiny, shrunken eyes.  
  
They glanced to the ditch, and then to her.  
And the tightly pressed lips hidden behind the black of his beard revealed nothing.  
  
“You, girl. T'hell you doing with this. You killed it?”  
  
“... She was dying already.”  
  
Nagura said nothing, and ran his fingers through his beard – she understood that it could've been interpreted many ways, and that she –  
  
Bowing her head low, she shut her eyes.  
  
“I apologise. I wish I hadn't had to.”  
  
“Oh... Oh...”  
  
Nagura repeated, a few times, uncertain of himself.  
A strange man, in this kind of situation – what would she have done?  
  
Their thoughts were cut off by a secondary sound – the sound of mewling.  
Two pairs of feet and the pad of four cut through the woods, until they found a little alcove where two kittens were huddled against each other, looking underfed and frightened.  
  
“Easy there. Hol' on. Easy there...”  
  
Nagura mumbled, rubbing his hands against his dirty trousers.  
After he'd warmed them a bit, he carefully folded the kittens up in a cloth – and Yuri was surprised to see them ease into it, looking a little calmer.  
  
“Reminds 'em of their mom. Keeps 'em from panicking.”  
  
Muttered Nagura, staring intently at the kittens, staring back at him from where they were wrapped up like a fancy pastry roll.  
  
“Oh... I, I see...”  
  
“Did you really kill their mother?”  
  
She didn't want to betray anything that Daigorou and her new friends had done; and if she said anything, it seemed like they were really scared of Nagura.  
She didn't want him to – punish them, or call anyone's parents, so...  
  
“You aren't scared of me.”  
  
“No...”  
  
She whispered, then furled her brows against one another.  
  
“Well... My, my parents say I should be a little afraid of everyone, but I think I'm... Good at reading adults, most of the time, and so...”  
  
“Your parents are right, you should be more careful. Even in a town like this.”  
  
Sighing, but looking a little calmer, Nagura eased the curled kittens into a farmer's satchel against his back.  
Their tiny heads, peeking out, were – incredibly adorable...  
  
"But... I'm grateful, all the same. A few of the boys 'round here don't have much to do besides steal my crops and pester Yuugiri.”  
  
His calloused fingers scratched under the chin of the dog, which barked gratefully – if not gracefully.  
Yuri – laughed, a little, and the tense atmosphere faded, a bit.  
… Now that she could look closer, his eyes were – incredibly sad...  
  
“Wait. Mmn. You're the new one. Mashiro, right?”  
  
“Right...”  
  
“Oh. Hrmn. Well, I can't imagine it's easy for your family... I'll walk you back to town.”  
  
She'd heard the tone, before.  
The one that people got when they had a million different thoughts, layered behind what they actually decided to say. Hesitation, concern...  
Anger.  
  
Perhaps anger, most of all – not at her, exactly, but...  
  
Nagura knew the forest quite well, as she imagined most of the people of the town did, including the boys.  
Had she – been abandoned?!  
  
Growling, she was surprised when Nagura laughed.  
  
“Well now, what was all that about?”  
  
“... I don't like cowards.”  
  
Yuri confessed, quietly.  
  
“Oh, is that so, now? So t'was those damn brats. Wish that lad's father wasn't _the_ officer, but, can't be helped, can it.”  
  
“Uhmn...”  
  
“Sorry. Don't worry about the grumblings of an old man. Things like that – well, only adults should have to worry about them. Ah...”  
  
His face fell further, for a moment.  
Then Yuugiri bounded up to his foot and gave it a lick, and some small semblence of joy returned to Nagura's face.  
  
“Well. Please consider who you consider your friend carefully. People let you down.”  
  
“Do... Have a lot of people let you down, Mr. Nagura...”  
  
“You're too formal. Nobody speaks like that.”  
  
Grumbled Nagura, but the ghost of a smile danced under his beard.  
  
“M'granddaughter would've liked you. She was a bit older than you, but... Had a real fanciful streak to her. Mean as hell. When she got angry, I mean...”  
  
_Was.  
  
_ It was amazing how a single word could carry so much weight; but Yuri'd spent most of her time with adults, and she'd read – enough.  
There wasn't anything to say in regards to that, but she felt that maybe just being friendly...  
  
“I... Really like fancy things. I think... Sometimes it's okay to be a little, a little fanciful. I'm going to make friends who like that, too!”  
  
“Not here, you won't.”  
  
Nagura frowned, staring off into the distance.  
The woods had vanished behind them, and they'd passed by Daigorou's house.  
A very spindly woman was standing in front of him, like she'd planned to give him a lecture, but...  
  
Daigorou just kept yelling at her, instead.  
It looked like she wasn't going to say anything back, either.  
  
… Silently, the two of them kept walking.  
  
Nagura's house wasn't that far from the bus-stop, and his plot of land was larger than she'd expected; not like their own house, of course, but he'd clearly been here for awhile. Maybe his entire life..?  
  
“Well, unless you want'm, this is my stop. I'll take good care of them. Maybe they'll keep the mice out.”  
  
“Oh..! I'd love to, but... My parents, uhmn... My dad's very allergic...”  
  
For once, a genuine grin split Nagura's face.  
  
“Is he, now? That's city living for you. Probably all those papers. If I were a salaryman, my spirit would've broken in half like a twig. Mmn, well.”  
  
He set the cats down on the ground – they didn't wander off, nor did Yuugiri chase them.  
After awhile, both of them started nuzzling up against the orange-coated dog, as if she were familiar to them.  
  
“... Well, thank you for escorting me home...”  
  
“Escortin'... Walking, Mashiro. I walked you. To the bus stop.”  
  
“Sorry...”  
  
“Well, no harm in it. Just – You miss people, as you get older. Well... You can come by to see the cats, so long as you don't 'cause trouble.”  
  
“I would never..!”  
  
Her furled brows knit against each other so strongly that they might as well have been one; and the harsh determination etched across her face, across every word she spoke, might as well have been iron.  
Nagura smiled, but didn't laugh.  
  
“All I care is that you don't get into a situation like before. Girls shouldn't be out takin' lives, way I see it.”  
  
… She nodded, like it was a promise.  
But – she hadn't acted poorly. She knew it. Logically, utterly logically.  
The cat had been suffering. If she hadn't been there – it would've suffered longer, and possibly because of...  
  
Fiddling with her hair, she whispered.  
  
“Don't worry. I don't want... To be in a situation like that, ever again!..”  
  
That seemed like enough to satisfy him, even though she wondered at how true it was.  
This was her life now, wasn't it – and she wanted to be friends with Daigorou, didn't she?  
And his friends, too...  
  
But that sort of thing happened in the country.  
And if it were a choice between seeing something suffer, or – or being party to people she wanted to be...  
Friends with –  
  
It was right, wasn't it, to...  
  
Sighing, her lonely walk back to the bus station was all but silent.  
  
The summer sun above was finally growing ready to die, itself; a sacred death that would transform the season into autumn, with falling leaves and the lonesome sounds of nature, growing ready for winter.  
  
It had always been her favourite season.  
  
As the bus slowly creaked into the station, she wished desperately that her mother was present – because mother always seemed to know what to do in these situations.  
Mom had grown up with grandpa, and apparently they'd had it rough, a few times, so...  
  
Had her mother ever killed anything before? Well, she must have – but the idea of her mother taking anything else's life...  
  
Was she a monster?  
Had – had she become a monster?  
  
She wasn't sure why she was crying, alone on the bus, because she still felt that what she'd done was right, even if it wasn't good, or the best option, just the only option she'd had.  
But she kept crying, and was good enough at hiding it that the busman didn't notice, or care.  
  
Home was a shining place, bland and indistinct and yet welcoming all the time.  
The Yamamuras were sitting out on the porch, smoking in unison – apparently up at the same time for once.  
A man about the same age as her father was driving away in a pickup truck...  
  
It must have been their son; and given how happy he seemed to see them, well, she could understand, just a little bit.  
  
Even if it was cruel to only see the people you loved rarely, it did make you love them, even more..!  
  
“Oh, now look who's back late! Mister, wake up. Little miss Mashiro is back again!”  
  
“Hrmph!”  
  
Mumbled Mr. Yamamura, but it was as happy as any grumbling could be.  
His wife gave a soft and maternal coo, and hobbled over to Yuri.  
  
“I hope you had a good first day of school, little miss. Did you?”  
  
Yuri nodded twice, because even with all of the day behind her, she still felt it'd been mostly good, probably?..  
She'd let down a few people, or maybe herself, but the latter didn't really matter, anyway –  
  
“... Uh-huh! I did! And I learned... I learned a lot. Apparently they're... Teaching things I didn't know about, here...”  
  
“Oh, well! That's good, that's very good. Do you have something to eat back at your house, then?”  
  
“... Yeah... I do, thank you!”  
  
Smiled Yuri, delicately, and with a flourishing curtsy that she'd been practising in her head, for some time.  
Mrs. Yamamura smiled again, but Mr. Yamamura had fallen asleep – were their schedules really so different...  
  
The mailbox was overstuffed, as usual.  
Mostly addressed to her parents, and she'd been told where to forward each individual letter.  
It was her special after-school assignment, and she took it very seriously.  
  
Apparently, she wouldn't have to do it much longer, but the mail kept coming – no longer important things, about the case.  
Complaints; heartfelt ramblings...  
  
Threats.  
  
Maybe that was how businessmen operated.  
They saw everyone else as – animals, dying out slowly.  
And they told themselves...  
  
It's all right.  
They wouldn't live through it, anyway.  
And so...  
  
Yuri sniffed, and hated herself. She was older, she was elegant and mature.  
Not at all like that whiny crybaby, Natsuki.  
  
Wiping her tears from her eyes, she stacked the envelopes neatly, admiring her handiwork for a moment.  
  
She wanted to read, a bit, but –  
  
For the first time, she found herself in a place where all her focusing didn't help her at all.  
No matter how much she tried to centre her breathing, it didn't help.  
  
Nothing seemed to help, at all.  
  
… Completely alone, Yuri sat against the empty living room floor.  
A fine layer of dust had begun to gather, but she didn't mind it, really. In a way, it kind of felt – right, somehow.  
  
Without thinking, she lay back against the hardwood, and stared up at the ceiling.  
This one was different; it didn't stare back in the same way the sun did, or the ceiling in her room might.  
There were different lines in it, and they fit together differently.  
  
She could hear the Yamamuras turning their television on; it was always at such a high volume.  
She couldn't hate them for it – they both seemed a little hard of hearing.  
  
… But her lips pursed.  
  
The sound, she _hated_ it.

It was endless and pointless and vapid.  
Chattering people and chattering contests and constant buzzing and distraction, and it got in your head, too, if you let it, and before too long had passed, you started to like it, to crave it –  
  
She almost missed the steaming scent of noodles, jolting her back from –  
  
From whatever it was she'd been thinking.  
  
Her pathway into the kitchen was familiar too.  
Later she'd have to go shopping, but at least she didn't have to worry about money.  
That was – it was...  
  
Dark eyes glanced at the portrait of her parents against the counter.  
  
She was smiling back in it, and they were smiling, too.  
  
Wherever they were, and whatever business they were dealing with – perhaps they were smiling, and thinking of her..?  
  
Yuri's room was comforting, and her parents had painted it a light lilac shade.  
She loved the colour; like her hair, and her eyes. It made her feel stronger, and a little safer, and a little less alone.  
  
Even alone, however, she wasn't entirely friendless.  
  
Dumas was going to have to wait for the evening; she'd selected an old favourite, because it was short, and because whenever she wasn't sure how she felt, how she really felt – it made her feel better.  
  
She read the pages until her eyes couldn't read anymore, until they felt heavy and muggy like the summer sky, before the night had woven its magic upon the trembling ruins of summer.  
The book tumbled from her hands, and she struggled to catch it...  
  
But exhaustion claimed her, and she fell into a peaceful, quiet sleep.  
  
Outside, the Yamamura's television set continued to broadcast deep into the night, the background noises fading interminably, one into the other, like a ghostly echo of the summer insects that were already starting to fade away, with the changing of the seasons.


	5. IV. We Can Remember it for You Wholesale

“Goodness, you're getting so much taller! You remind me of myself, you know... But stay still, Yuri. I'm not deft with scissors. Don't wanna cut your ears off!”  
  
Mrs. Yamamura joked as she sat patiently in front of the mirror.  
Yuri could see her reflection – the intensity behind her dark eyes, and whatever else lurked beneath.  
  
Yesterday had been her birthday; thirteen, and already...  
  
She really had started to grow taller.  
But her hair felt like it'd decided to screw itself up all at once, growing at a furious pace over her eyes, and refusing to grow at all behind her; she'd been stuck with the curse of slightly shaggy, shoulder-length hair for too long.  
  
… Until now.  
  
“A short, cute, cut for a beautiful girl! I bet your folks'd be so proud of you!”  
  
“... I, I hope so, too...”  
  
Though Yuri wasn't certain if they'd be proud about her, and she only talked to them at their new jobs every once in awhile, they got to see each other – now and again.  
Things hadn't turned out quite how anyone had planned, but...  
  
So things went.  
That one author had written that, or something like it, often.

And she liked it; the world kept on moving, no matter how you felt.

To become truly strong, you had to...  
To accept it, and try your best...  
  
Yuri wasn't certain that the woman behind the mirror's reflection was cute, and certainly not beautiful, but her smiling face, reflected in the glass, made her happy.  
And the short-cropped cut made her feel ready for another autumn full of adventures, and everything in between!  
  
“Hmn, it's almost a pity. You looked like such a little lady, with that long hair of yours...”  
  
“Oh... Oh, I think I'll grow it back, when I'm ready to. I like – having long hair, too! But I don't want...”  
  
She trailed off, going red.  
  
Daigorou had threatened her, jokingly, that he'd leave her behind if she got too 'girly' on them.  
Putting aside that she was pretty strong, and pretty fast, she – she'd been a little concerned about it.  
  
Recently, his voice had cracked less and less.  
He'd joined the baseball club, and was doing – well, in it.  
But – but he hadn't really been joking, not at all.  
  
So...  
  
The last strand of dark, velvety hair fell to the ground.  
Yuri smiled, fearlessly.  
Her reflection smiled back.  
  
“I think I want everything to stay like this, forever..!”  
  
“Oh, little miss – I wonder, I won't be able to call you that much longer, will I...”  
  
Mrs. Yamamura's face fell, for a second, for a fraction of a second.  
She'd seemed older, too, as of late; maybe just the difference in perspective caused by Yuri's rapid change in height.  
  
But there'd been a weight to her that wasn't the weight of age; a stoop to her spirit whenever she'd looked at Yuri.  
Not sadness, or regret – it was almost happy, but...  
Well, whatever it was, Yuri didn't fully understand it.  
  
And, like Daigorou was always saying, it probably didn't matter.  
  
“You can always... Call me that, if you like. I don't mind it... When you say it!”  
  
With a smile, Yuri hopped down from the chair, and admired her reflection one last time.  
It truly was really nice, Mrs. Yamamura had done a wonderful job – curtseying daintily, like a proper lady should, Yuri smiled even as her elder burst into laughter.  
  
“If you aren't the sweetest flower here, I don't know what is! Remember, now, you can come over and eat with us, any time you like – “  
  
The words faded behind Yuri as she left, pausing to wave and smile.  
She didn't _hate_ the idea of eating with them, but...  
Part of her rankled at relying on them, and hated their pity for her.  
  
She'd been – thinking about that, a lot.  
  
**Hate.  
  
** People wrote about it as often as they wrote about love, of course, and often by the same name.  
But at the end of the day, it seemed as if people cared a great deal more about hate; it was spite that fueled their lives, their quests, their loves, and their deaths.  
  
And then it all went unanswered in the end, and nobody was satisfied.  
Hatred left a gaping wound in the inky heart of literature, and – just what happened to people to make them care more about hatred than love?  
  
… She was the sort of girl who'd become an endlessly elegant and strong young lady, who cared about love the most.  
  
The quiet promise to herself filled her with confidence as she padded over to the bus station, smiling brightly.  
  
“O... Oi there, Daigorou!”  
  
“I'm telling you, it's just Gorou... You're so weird, Yuri.”  
  
He moved away a little bit, which he'd done whenever they sat together like this.  
She didn't mind – she'd read enough to know that the distance between men and women just happened, because...  
  
Well, apparently, because a lot of men and women were stupid.  
She didn't feel like anything had really changed between them...  
And though they were definitely friends, she'd been thinking about love, a lot, too.  
  
If – even if it wasn't a final love, if he wanted to be her lover, later in life...  
Well, the idea – she wasn't...  
  
“Tsch, I keep on thinking the bus is gonna come by, and it never does. Lazy people, bus-drivers.”  
  
“It's just been the same guy, you know... The entire time.”  
  
“Whatever, Mashiro.”  
  
He glanced at her, glanced away...  
Maybe this was victory, of a sort?  
  
“You look all right. I hope you're not planning to keep us down, all right? If you get weak for a second, I'm not gonna hesitate to leave you behind!”  
  
Daigorou had killed his accent with incredible focus, after his father had taken him to the city.  
He'd apparently been so awed by the people there that he was determined to become a bit more cultured, himself!..  
  
Well, that's what she wanted to believe, but in reality, he just didn't want to sound like a 'bumpkin' – to use his own words.  
  
She'd started 'hearing' the accent here less and less, too. She knew it was present, but you...  
Got used to it, after awhile, and then maybe even slipped into it, yourself.  
Not that she minded, one way or the other. It was kind of fun, a little secret –  
  
“Mashiro. Stop spacing out. You look like an idiot.”  
  
“Oh, ri... Right, well, you're the idiot. For noticing.”  
  
Strangely, he didn't smile or argue back.  
He'd been somewhat silent, as of late, and she was worried about that – if he just didn't want to be friends anymore, she hoped that he'd get it over with, because...  
It would hurt, but she'd understand it.  
  
Yes. That's how it was, and how it would have to be.  
  
Inhale.  
Exhale.  
  
The bus rode up to them slowly, and she smiled at her memory.  
Same as ever, it was that one fellow... Kamigawa, maybe?  
She'd never taken the time to learn his name properly, which felt awful.  
  
On the other hand, a bus was kind of a place of anonymity, so – it was all right..?  
Probably, at least.  
  
Daigorou went on ahead of her, and sat next to his friends.  
There wasn't enough space to join him, so she sat by herself.  
Perhaps somebody would choose to sit next to her, then?  
  
Maybe – a girl, somebody her own age, who...  
  
She slipped a book from her bag, and started to read.  
  
The writer was a famous tactician, who'd dreamed of greater things than he'd been able to achieve in his life.  
Some people called him an Emperor, but that seemed a bit much, since he'd never really achieved it, himself.  
  
It seemed strange to think of a book opening with the notion that a country was divided into three parts –  
  
The reason she read it, even though the book was only a little interesting to her, was that she'd started hearing what some of the idle conversations were like, when she wasn't talking directly to people.  
  
At first, it started easily enough – the weird girl, from the city.  
The one who's always reading.  
The one who never says anything, until she's talking at you, and then she just won't shut up...  
  
Gorou's girl.  
  
She wasn't sure how she felt about any of it, wasn't sure if it was just things that people said, so the pages of a book were a fine place to spend the ride in.  
And if that meant she was alone and apart from people...  
  
Well, she was with an Emperor(-wannabe). Who could ask for a finer friend than that?  
  
As the bus pulled into the lot, another day began; and it was all incredibly rote.  
You could almost predict what might happen before it happened, if you payed close attention to it; other people had changed, just like she had, but not so much that they weren't...  
  
That they didn't follow their own routines.  
  
It all drifted past her, as she cut into the water like it were silk.  
The swim team had been her pride and joy since she got here, even though it was a bit underfunded compared to the track and baseball teams.  
  
Water understood her; like the wilds revealing their secrets, water welcomed her and made her feel at home.  
  
Perhaps that was because, when you're in water, it's almost like you're flying.  
  
She flew from one side of the pool to the next, and didn't keep too great a track of her time, though she knew it was 'competitive' – and she loved the idea of competing, but that wasn't why she swam.  
It felt good; that was all.  
  
Breathless, she finished a final lap, and clung to the wall, letting the calmness return to her; same as ever, same as always.  
  
Inhale – exhale.  
  
The swim coach had wandered off because of course she had; because this was the country, and when people wanted to leave their jobs, at least in this town...  
They just kind of did, leaving the students to uncertainly continue, at their own pace.  
  
Wringing the water from the – the air, she laughed as she reached for lengthy violet hair that wasn't present, anymore.  
  
Her laughted must have offended somehow, as one of the other girls shot her a nasty look.  
  
Yuri patently ignored her, showered, dressed, fetched her bookbag, and left.  
It didn't matter if one or two people considered her an enemy; if she just kept herself aloof from them, either they'd grow out of it, or realise she'd never really wanted to be one in the first place.  
  
Daigorou was waiting outside, leaning against the wall.  
Recently, he'd taken to leaving his blazer unbuttoned, like he was some kind of old-time rebel.  
  
… Despite his hair growing back, it was impossible to take him too seriously...  
  
“Good, you're clean and ready to go. I was worried you were just gonna waste my time, all day.”  
  
“... Really... Do I ever waste your time?”  
  
She said, with what she hoped was a teasing smile – he snorted non-comitally.

… Well, that was fine. At least they'd get to spend some time together, today.  
  
Instead of going into the woods, Daigorou's gang just walked the highway, these days.  
Usually, they only made it as far as the train tracks that abutted the road, but...  
He'd gotten that look in his eyes, that really curious one she liked best.  
  
“We're gonna make it there, I think. Gonna walk there.”  
  
Despite the fact they'd probably all driven past it, at some point, there was something different about walking there, on foot.  
It was like – reaching a milestone, like marching your troops past a famous river!  
  
She smiled a little, and wondered if the thought made her more refined..?  
Well –  
  
“All right, Yuri. I need you to not mess this up for me.”  
  
“Oh, hrmn? Ye... Yes! We'll do it, together..!”  
  
He smiled, gave her head a pat, and stretched his shoulders, before leaning to his right leg against the ground.  
  
“Right, right! Get fired up! Gorou, the number one hero of this sleepy town, is here!”  
  
“Oi, Gorou...”  
  
Replied one of his cronies, appearing from behind a tree; soon, the entire posse had assembled, and in one thrum of conversation, Yuri a few steps behind, traced their way alongisde the highway.  
  
Usually, Daigorou would take a few steps back and talk to her, from time to time, but recently he'd done it less and less.

… She'd realised it was because he had no interest in _them.  
_ Nobody did, really.  
  
She'd tried to explain it, once – speaking as tersely as she could.  
That books were the way she stayed connected to her parents, the friends that kept her going.  
That they made her stronger, just like any run or swim or push-up –  
  
'So, like stuffed animals, then. Got it.'  
  
… Had been his reply, and he'd shrugged it off further.  
So... If he wouldn't share her interests...  
  
Yuri had spent some time learning about baseball.  
She wasn't sure she'd done a very good job of it, though her father had been absolutely thrilled to have someone to discuss it with; he'd rambled on at length about teams, players, famous trades...  
  
And she'd even taken notes, but the strangest thing was –  
  
When she'd approached Daigorou and talked about it, he hadn't been happy.  
In fact, if she had a word to describe the emotion that had flickered across his face...  
  
But why _hatred?_  
  
“Oh, you've gotta be... For the love of...”  
  
Daigorou's actual voice cut off her thoughts.  
The roads, usually so rarely occupied here, had been taken over by a road crew.  
Their bizarre mascot character, some kind of – otter-thing...  
  
Well, it emblazoned a sign near the road, and several workers were hunched around it, drinking coffee and mumbling cheerfully to themselves.  
  
“Game over, Gorou. Let's go home and play videogames.”  
  
That was the other thing; she didn't hate videogames, or anything like that.  
She'd actually found – some people who'd liked literature on the...  
What were they called, BBS...  
And it was nice to occasionally talk to strangers, and pretend she knew them in person.  
  
But – a lot of the time, Daigorou came up with the worst excuses to simply go and play with his friends, and nothing else.  
  
She'd seen the spindly ghost that was his mother just stare at him, with sunken eyes that looked like boatlights.  
  
… It didn't matter how many times she prayed to Bishamonten, though, you couldn't force somebody else into being a different person.  
_Mssr. Camus would have something smart to say about that!  
  
_ Feeling a little smug, she couldn't help but simultaneously feel a twinge of – something else.  
  
As for Daigorou's father –  
  
“Oi! Yuri! Stop! Spacing! **OUT!** ”  
  
“... Oh, oh! Sorry Daigorou – “  
  
“C'mon, it's Gorou. Anyway. We're gonna go on a detour. Stay or go, but don't keep blabbering, okay?”  
  
Had she been blabbering?  
Well – she wouldn't get left behind, that was for certain!..  
  
The detour eventually claimed the other two members of the Daigorou Gang, who'd seen enough woodlands and plains in their life to have grown thoroughly sick of it, even when it tapered into gentle hills and animal dens.  
  
And they'd lost the nervous boy who'd gone green after that one incident, so...  
Soon it was just her and Daigorou.  
  
“I can't believe they all pussed out before you, Yuri... Unbelievable.”  
  
“Aha, I did... Didn't I warn you when we first met? That I was - “  
  
“Yeah, yeah. Well, you kept up with me, but I've gotta find stronger guys. Do you think there's anything up on that hill? I wanna see if there's any treasure, or something...”  
  
The idea of treasure – what did that even mean? Buried treasure? Pirate treasure? – on the hill would've normally made her laugh, but it was clear that Daigorou's pride had been stung by his cronies leaving him, so...  
In near-total silence, the two of them kept walking.  
  
Up ahead, the hill drew itself in front of them like a grass-encrusted marker stone, rich and imperial.  
There were no clear pathways upon it, but she was no stranger to the woodlands, and even when he was feeling peeved, Daigorou loved it almost as much as she did, probably, so...  
  
Tracing through the brambles and leaves wasn't particularly hard for either of them.  
The heat didn't bother her, and it was amazing how just having less hair could make you feel like you were an entirely different person –  
  
“Yuri. I've been thinking.”  
  
Apart from them, the birds in the trees and alcoves were calling out to one another.  
She took a few steps closer to him, unintentionally.  
Without thinking.  
  
“You've been with me for awhile. I'm not saying anything serious.”  
  
His words were careful, measured – like he'd played them over in his head, a lot.  
Even when the people around town were...  
When she didn't like the way they talked, or more specifically, the rumours they spread...  
  
She'd started to see it in people her own age, too – the things she'd always seen in adults.  
  
That each person thought deeply, if not always profoundly, in their own way.  
About things she'd never understand, even if they shared it with her – about things she might not see as important, but to them...  
  
“Just. Yuri! Stop spacing out for one moment and listen to me, okay?!”  
  
His fist struck a tree, but she was staring straight at him.  
Idly, she brushed at her hair – but there was nothing to brush against, and the gesture seemed odd, almost meaningless.  
  
Daigorou was breathing heavily, but not blushing.  
  
“I'm saying, you're my girl, now. How does that sound to you?”  
  
“...”  
  
She didn't respond, but smiled warmly at him, and Daigorou punched the air, already wringing out his knuckles from where the bark had cut in – though just a minor cut, quite shallow.  
The blood clung to his hands and she –  
  
_Remembered to look away, of course.  
  
_ … But she had the strangest feeling, almost as if she should be happier than she was, and she wasn't certain why –  
  
“Nice. Well, sometime you should come on over. We can chat, you do some stuff.”  
  
“Some... Some stuff...”  
  
Her laughter only elicited another frown from him.  
  
“Yeah, well, my laundry isn't gonna clean itself. Joking, haha, joking.”  
  
“That so? It'd explain why... You've always got that distinct Daigorou odour – “  
  
“C'mon, you can't honestly be my girlfriend now, and not call me Gorou!”  
  
“I'll call you Gorou in the future, all right? If... If we make it that far. But, for me, you'll always be the greatest Gorou, even if I meet any others!”  
  
“Ugh... I'm regretting this already.”  
  
Daigorou sounded like he meant it, but had already consigned himself to his fate –  
That was strange, too.  
Did he really view her as such a burden, then..?  
  
Well – thinking about it wasn't going to change anything.  
  
… She knew it was a bit aggressive, but she reached for his hand.  
He hesitated, then took it.  
  
Yuri was smiling all the way down the hill, even though they were mostly silent, apart from Daigorou's occasional mumbling half-hearted curses.  
  
The orange glow of the sun hung heavy over the two of them as they made their way back along the open artery of the road, the same road crew that'd been there before still loitering patiently amidst their handiwork...  
  
“Don't think too much about any of this, okay? That's all.”  
  
Said Daigorou, suddenly – the familiar sight of their hometown looming back up at them, silhouetted by the light.  
  
“I dunno how things are gonna be, so, it's not like we're super official or anything. But, I mean, you know, I mean that things can change really fast, so – ”  
  
“Hey... Daigorou... Don't, don't worry. I promise. I understand.”  
  
Maybe, if she were being very honest with herself –  
  
_No, she was greedy, and she didn't understand._  
If a man were to declare his affection like that, and just – go through that whole show, with the tree-punching and everything...  
And if she – if she genuinely returned it...  
  
Was that really something that could change, suddenly?  
  
But he was right – always ways.  
She was probably overthinking it.  
  
With a shrug of his shoulders, he gave her a half-salute as they parted ways – walking backwards against the skyline, half-smiling.  
  
… And she suddenly wasn't sure how she felt, at all.  
  
That evening, her mother called her.  
It felt almost like fate – and her slipper-clad feet kicked up the dust amidst the floor as she dove for the land-line.  
  
“Mom!”  
  
She knew how desperately happy her voice sounded, but Yuri didn't care.  
It'd been probably a week since they'd last talked, and even though – ah, there were people talking in the background, the sound of office machinery...  
  
“Sorry, sweetie. I'm – still in hell, aha... Oops, sorry – “  
  
“It's okay... I'm a teenager now. You can – swear, a bit...”  
  
The sharp intake of breath on the other side of the phone...  
It hurt, and she wasn't sure why.  
  
Her mother hesitated for a minute, and then another minute; leaving only the sounds of conversation and machinery and her own breathing to remind Yuri that yes, her mother was still there.  
  
“... You really are, aren't you... My little lily...”  
  
“I... I am. And I think I – I think I have a boyfriend, now...”  
  
At that, her mother laughed – just a little.  
  
“Really... Aren't you still a bit young for that sort of relationship? Please wait at least until your father and I can meet him – “  
  
“It's Daigorou!”  
  
Hesitation, like her mother couldn't really believe it.  
  
“Well... That's nice, Yuri. But remember that it's okay for a woman to change her mind, once in awhile – “  
  
“Mother... How could you...”  
  
Yuri grumbled, to her mother's indolent laughter.  
  
“Sorry, sorry! But he's – you're saying you don't think it's a real relationship, just yet?”  
  
There was a couch, near the television set.  
Unlike the thin layer of dust on the floor, she almost never used it; though she had a few old VHS cassettes she played.  
They were a – secret hobby of hers, and so...  
  
Idly, Yuri put the one with the extra-frightening title in.  
Nothing wrong with rewinding it while she was waiting.  
  
… As to the couch, it was soft, and supportive as she lay down against it, watching the suns dart by in reverse.  
  
“Not... Not really. I don't think he even really thinks so.”  
  
“Phew!”  
  
She couldn't help at her mother's cutesy relief; even if part of her was annoyed her mother didn't take this seriously, and even if she was concerned for how – how tired, she sounded...  
  
“Listen, Yuri. Men are mysterious creatures. I met a lot of men I thought I loved, before I met your father. Do you know that?”  
  
“Yes, mom...”  
  
Whispered Yuri, smiling softly – she'd heard these kinds of stories countless times before...  
But was suddenly realising just how much she missed them.  
  
“Well! You don't have to rush into anything you're not – comfortable in, okay? And if you ever need any advice, I'm sure Mrs. Yamamura...”  
  
“I promise I won't... Do anything rash. I'm very patient, you see...”  
  
Sighing – regretfully – on the other end of the line, her mother went silent again.  
Yuri could hear the tension and wistfulness in every pause, and it just kept lingering – her mother unable to find any words at all.  
  
“Well... Well... How's school going, then?”  
  
“Hmnhmn!”  
  
Yuri announced proudly, stopping and pausing the movie at just the right moment to capture the opening credits, with the incredibly appropriate theme music.  
  
“I... I haven't let you or father down, I promise. Academically, I'm going to be – the most successful member of this family, I promise!”  
  
“You promised two things in one sentence, Yuri. Please, only stick to one at a time!”  
  
“Mom...”  
  
But she was smiling, in spite of herself.  
  
“I... I miss you both. Terribly. I hate being alone.”  
  
She froze – knowing she'd said too much, knowing suddenly how her mother had felt.  
But words were invisible creatures, and once you spoke them aloud, you couldn't take them back, now, could you?  
  
“Be strong, Yuri. We hate this too. _So much..._ But, we brought it on ourselves, and your father and I have to fix it, okay? Not just for our sakes – but...”  
  
Yuri listened, and nodded, even though the gesture was completely meaningless without anyone around to see it.  
The cord stretched from the kitchen to the couch, and felt like a lifeline.  
  
“I understand. Mom... Please be safe, yourself. And take care, and don't let it get you down, and don't ever give up, and please – please remember to eat something nice once in a while, and – “  
  
… Her parents never told her to be quiet, or that she was talking strange.  
She didn't know when she finished, but she could practically smell her mother's perfume.  
  
“Yuri... I've got to go.”  
  
“Will I hear from you again? Soon?”  
  
“Soon as I possibly can. Your dad's going to be getting in later, so, hopefully he'll give you a ring too, but...”  
  
_But.  
  
_ Other words were crueller, but the possibility of hope, yanked out from under your feet, was one of the most terrible things in the world.  
… Still.  
  
Hope remained.  
  
“All... All right, mother. I'm just going to... Sit here, and watch movies.”  
  
“Oh, oh? Not bury your nose in a book? What on earth has happened to my little girl?! No, I should ask – romantic comedies, right?”  
  
And she could almost see her mother's encouraging smirk, that slight wink she always had when she thought she knew something.  
Yuri watched the atmosphere sink over the television like a grainy sludge, and smiled, wistfully.  
  
“... Not exactly...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bingewatching horror movies is exactly what I remember of my first love confession.


	6. V. The Long Valley

The two of them lay against the grass, their heads resting one against the other.  
She couldn't see what Daigorou was up to, only the spring sky above them – blue and cloudless and promising a rain that never came.  
  
“Guess it feels like spring, now, huh.”  
  
Daigorou muttered for the sixth or seventh time, his head shifting against hers.  
Even though it had been a rough start to the year, and father hadn't been able to visit when he said he was going to...  
  
Her fingers found his, and gave them a small squeeze.  
  
“Certainly does... Doesn't it...”  
  
“Yeah. Like my old man always says, though, you spend too much time thinking about spring, and summer surely follows.”  
  
“Does he... Has he ever, said that...”  
  
She'd seen Daigorou's father around town, occasionally.  
Unlike Daigorou's mother, he was straight-backed and neatly-postured, with a winsome smile and the look of a picture-perfect country officer.  
  
He seemed – friendly enough, too, but...  
  
“Eh, doesn't matter if he said it or not. I'm gonna make him proud. I'm gonna go to university, come back here, and... I don't know. Have a family or something.”  
  
“Aren't... Aren't we a bit young to be thinking about things, like that...”  
  
She laughed, but her face was red – and she was very, very glad that he couldn't see it.  
Daigorou sighed, and she could hear his legs shuffling, one against the other.  
  
“Maybe. I guess. I don't know. What else is there to do, here?”  
  
“There's – “  
  
“Besides _that._ You read too much.”  
  
“W... Well...”  
  
Yuri didn't have an answer to that.  
What was there to do here, and who was she to pretend she could help him out?  
If Daigorou wanted to become...  
  
Whatever it was that he wanted to be?  
  
… It wasn't her place to criticise him, and it certainly wasn't her place to try to guide him.  
She'd been – thinking about similar things, herself.  
Not so much family, but...  
  
“You kinda stumbled yesterday. Remember, if you can't keep up, you're gonna have to wait on the sidelines!”  
  
He laughed, but to be honest...  
  
It wasn't as if Daigorou and his 'gang' – essentially disbanded and reabsorbed into the baseball club – had been visiting the wilds much, anymore.  
They barely left their individual houses out of class, and so – it just felt like that part of life was over, save when she went off by herself...  
  
And that wasn't the same, not at all.  
She enjoyed it, but – for different reasons...  
  
“Don't worry. Just because... I'm getting taller doesn't mean I'll slow down. I won't... I won't...”  
  
“Whatever. I believe you.”  
  
Though he laughed again, she kept mumbling it – those sacred, protecting words.  
Even though – she'd started to wonder...  
  
“Anyway, I've got a more serious request, Yuri. Hear me out.”  
  
“Oh..? Oh – Okay..!”  
  
Daigorou straightened up, and stared off into the sun – with that steely glint in his eyes that came a bit more naturally, day by day.  
  
“If you could – ugh, this is gonna sound so...”  
  
“Just say it. I prefer it when – when people are honest.”  
  
She straightened up, straightened her skirt – she'd always preferred the shorter ones, since they were easier to move around, so it wasn't really necessary but – it felt nice.  
Everything felt nice in the sun, like this, and she –  
  
Daigorou was frowning. He wasn't – angry, exactly, but...  
  
“Could you – listen. It's weird to be with a girl who's taller than I am. So...”  
  
It took her awhile to realise that she was looking down at him.  
Her face went red, and she wasn't sure what to think.  
She hadn't – meant to keep growing, like this, of course, and she did stand out a bit, but...  
  
_Ah!  
  
_ “T... There we go!”  
  
Her posture a little more crooked and slunched to match her crooked grin, Yuri smiled at him – but she was still smiling down at him, despite her best efforts.  
Daigorou's frown deepened, his brow furling as he scratched at his temple.  
  
“Nevermind, Yuri. You're impossible.”  
  
“... Oh... Sorry...”  
  
“Don't – just don't think about it. Let's go get something to eat, I guess.”  
  
Was this what it was like to drift apart?  
She'd – always imagined that this sort of thing might happen, though mostly to other people – the people she'd read about and shared her life with.  
  
But – it felt different, like this.  
  
… It hurt more than she'd expected, even though she'd prepared herself for it.  
Had they ever been serious at all – perhaps her mother had been right, and she'd just been...  
Eager, to fall in love –  
  
She kept thinking as they walked back into town, to the little noodle place that was always open, even when the weather was strange or the night was late.  
  
Yuri privately suspected it of some kind of shady business, but what that might be, she could hardly say.  
  
Left alone with her thoughts and Daigorou noisily slurping noodles, she kept on staring at her reflection in the broth.  
  
A morose young woman with hair that had started out so neatly trimmed, now slightly off-kilter, uneven and in-between short and shoulder-length, stared back at her.  
Beside her, a bowl slammed against the table.  
  
“Well, I'm out. Later Yuri.”  
  
“... Later.”  
  
She kept staring, and paid it off for the both of them, as usual.  
But she didn't stop thinking, even as she trudged her way to the past stop – and past it, just walking without thinking about where she was going.  
Even though this was her home – perhaps it wasn't truly her home, never had been.  
  
The streets kept their rhythm in spite of her thoughts, and soon she'd left the residential district behind, and entered that strange little part of town between farms and forest and reclaimed land...  
  
It wasn't as if she'd meant to come this way, but that was how it always was; she moved where the world willed her, and things happened.  
  
Nagura was sitting on his porch, an older, slightly paunchier dog resting against his lap.  
Two kittens, now grown into cats, frolicked amongst the yard, frightening birds and being a terrible menace.  
  
One of his eyes opened – the other was gummier, and greyer, and reminded her of the cat, and the deer, and of so many other animals.  
  
She hated herself for the thought, but it was terribly beautiful.  
  
“... Well. It's been awhile. T'cats have missed you. Not so much Yuugiri. Isn't that right, girl?”  
  
Yuugiri gave a weak bark, but her pudgy body leapt from his waist with a force that defied her age and increased weight, circling happily around Yuri's feet.  
Absentmindedly, she scritched under Yuugiri's ears, and the dog panted, content.  
  
“Hope you weren't worried about us. Ain't dead yet.”  
  
“... That wasn't... It. I would've... Read about it, if...”  
  
“Girl, that was a joke! You're terrifying!”  
  
She smiled crookedly at that, and quickly hid it behind a normal, somewhat softer grin.  
  
“I... The newspapers here are interesting, and they help me keep... Keep an eye on my parents, so...”  
  
“Oh. So that's how it is, then... Might as well make tea – “  
  
“Let me, please. I'm... Getting fairly good at it, I think!”  
  
It was a minor skill, but she'd been perfecting it for Daigorou's sake – a wife should be able to clean, care for the garden, entertain guests, rear children, and – above all else – make a perfect, refreshing cup of tea...  
  
Anyway, she could feign focusing on it, so as to better ignore the sad look in the old man's eyes.  
But – they were similar like that, so it was fine.  
  
“Well, I don't know if young ladies should read the paper all the time, 'specially if they're out to become blushing brides.”  
  
She didn't answer, but measured water, as if the measurements would change a single thing.  
  
“... Think about that, Yuri. Life's very short, and you – regret things, at the end of it.”  
  
“I...”  
  
Yuri caught herself before she'd said anything, and smiled without smiling.  
She'd gotten good at that, _too,_ hadn't she? But there was – absolutely no way she was going to tell anyone, even Nagura, that she regretted things a little, already.  
  
… There was a pattern to it, an art, perhaps.  
  
Making tea depended on concentration; on selecting the perfect cup, even when it was chipped and discoloured with age.  
Whether powder or leaves, they had to be controlled, refined, carefully discarded...  
  
It was good. She liked the peace of it.  
  
Soon, the refreshing scent of dried, slightly stale black tea filled Nagura's homestead.  
The old man said nothing, and didn't smile with the smile hidden behind his beard, but – his good eye shone, only just.  
  
… Yuugiri barked a lot, though. Yuri didn't mind.  
  
Two cups against a table with a worn cloth; she smoothed her skirts, and sat down.  
He sat down at the opposite end of the table, and sighed.  
  
“Well, then. Why'd you really come and see an old man like me? I hope it wasn't to steal the kittens. Or Yuugiri... You traitorous mutt.”  
  
Yuugiri made a sound that sounded like 'borf' and slobbered on his leg.  
And Yuri smiled, but did not reply.  
  
“... Hrmn, if not that, then... Loneliness? Nah. You're the type who doesn't mind being a bit lonely, aren't you. Then – something I can help with? I can't drive you to the city. Don't have a license anymore. Sorry.”  
  
“None of that. I... Did want to – to ask you something, but...”  
  
“Go on, then. You're the only person in this town who seems to remember that I exist, so...”  
  
“That's so horrible – I could never... Imagine that, to be simply written off like that..!”  
  
She hadn't meant to raise her voice, but she did.  
She raised her voice and she got angry and she let it out and slammed her fists against the table, and despite the fact that she'd gotten almost as tall as him, they seemed – tinier.  
Weaker.  
  
He laughed, quietly.  
There was nothing funny about it.  
  
“... Never thought the daughter of the folks that took my daughter from me'd be so passionate.”  
  
“I... Was that it?”  
  
“Mmn. She was the type to always have a grin and some hope for the future or another. The type to leave a small place like this, and come back with hopes and dreams. But – she didn't save money, not well. My fault. Never thought it was important.”  
  
Both of them stared at the ceiling; she was grateful for the company.  
  
“... Anyway, it's all past, now. I'm too old to hold grudges. I'll be seeing her again, soon enough.”  
  
“Can I – ask you, then...”  
  
“Shoot. I'm not exactly a font of advice, though. Even in my prime, I was never good at giving it, or receiving it.”  
  
Her feet shifted against each other.  
She rotated the cup in her hands, staring at her reflection once more.  
It distorted and faded from view with every rotation, degrading in quality until there were only ripples upon a dark surface.  
  
“My parents... I don't think they'll... They aren't going to be coming back. They rarely see each other anymore.”  
  
“Are they...”  
  
“They! I think they still love each other very much, but...”  
  
It was there, again, upon her like a hurricane.  
_That lethal word.  
  
_ “... As far as... I can tell, they both feel... It's important that, that they work very hard to... Set things right, so... And there's also the possibility that – we might lose some things in turn, so...”  
  
She knew that much was a lie, most likely.  
Work seemed like an addiction, and maybe money was too.  
It was hard for her to tell, even though she felt like she was thinking more like they were, with every day.  
  
And she –  
  
The tea was dark, and bitter, and she loved it.  
There was something incredibly calming about it; that suggested peace, and finality.  
  
Closure.  
  
She could see why all the great writers had favoured it, or sometimes coffee, but...  
  
Her fingers tapped against the table.  
  
“... So. I don't... I don't think they'll be coming back. And I don't have anyone else ask, besides the Yamamura family. I don't know if I like them.”  
  
“The Yamamuras, over by your place? They're sweet folk, mostly. Why wouldn't you – “  
  
She paused.  
Breathed in – breathed out.  
  
“I think... Sometimes I don't know why I think the way I do.”  
  
He looked down from the ceiling, across the table.  
His good eye focused on her intently, with all the wisdom and exhaustion that old age carried.  
Yuugiri had fallen silent against the ground, and he gave her a soft pat – without thinking.  
  
“S'pose that's just how everyone is, really. As long as you aren't hurting yourself, or thinking too much, no problem. Just – try to think a little less.”  
  
Yuri pursed her lips, and didn't respond to that.  
  
“But, hrmn... I don't think it's wrong, either. If you came here to ask me, you came here to ask me. What is it that I can do for you?”  
  
“Do you think – love lasts?”  
  
“Oh. Absolutely.”  
  
Both his eyes shut, and he sank back into his chair.  
He hadn't thought about the answer at all, just like how he hadn't thought about the way he'd pet his dog – and did that make it a trifling, unconcerned reply, or one straight from the heart..?  
  
Perhaps – both.  
  
“Love is the most powerful thing the world. Love of friends, love of places, lovers... Keeps you going when nothing else will. Isn't that right, Yuugiri...”  
  
Yuugiri didn't oblige them with a bark, but yawned soundlessly and curled up against his feet.  
  
“... Damn mutt. Dunno why I humour her. Well... I think you're asking the wrong question, Yuri. Do you think what you have, at your age, is love – “  
  
“I do!”  
  
She near shouted back, even though she didn't believe it.  
  
“ – And, do _you_ believe in love?”  
  
Her eyes widened as she sank back into her chair.  
The question – perhaps she'd known it was coming, but even if she had, she hadn't fully expected it.  
  
The weight of it felt like it had paralysed her, and she kept – playing it over in her mind, weighing every possible reaction.  
To himself, to herself... And what they might mean.  
  
In her mind –  
  
She could see it, almost.  
  
An image of herself, living here, holding a child against her arms.  
Daigorou, slouching in front of the television, not saying much.  
More children, perhaps – but careless, and unhappy. She...  
  
That wasn't what she wanted, at all.  
  
But...  
  
When he smiled, and joked with her, it felt good, made her feel good.  
She craved those moments more than anything, and it felt like they happened less and less.  
Perhaps it was because they'd held so little in common in the first place, but...  
  
Maybe there was another path. One where the two of them would go to the city.  
Or perhaps she – perhaps all of this had just been a distraction, and part of becoming a young woman was learning to break things off, and yet it all felt – so heavy...  
  
“There, there. Everyone feels like that, at your age. It's okay to cry a bit.”  
  
… She wasn't good at crying, though she very much wanted to.  
Getting angry was easier, but she didn't like showing that part of herself.  
  
Like her enthusiasm, all it did was make the people around her angry, too.  
Better to hide it, deep inside, buried so far within her that it would never escape.  
That way, she could control it – just like a breath, or the perfect cup of tea.  
  
“... I'll... I am going to be fine. I... I just, I don't want to hurt him, and I don't feel like this... Should matter as much as it does. But...”  
  
Her eyes fluttered half-shut, and she looked to her hands.  
They seemed – more delicate, somehow. Less calloused.  
Even the little nubs from swimming, from where she instinctively brushed the edge of the pool, had worn down.  
  
Maybe she really was getting weaker... And perhaps that would be the final nail.  
  
“Hey, now. Yuri. Listen to an old man. I think you need – mmn, some more friends, maybe. Some more friends your own age, er... How do I say this, harrrumn...”  
  
“Girls. You think I should be talking about this to other girls.”  
  
At that, they both cracked matching, crooked grins.  
Thirteen-going-on-fourteen and... Eighty-seven?  
That seemed about right. She decided he was eighty-seven.  
  
“Well, I'm just saying I can't help w'all of it. I'm not smart enough. But...”  
  
Scratching his chin, Nagura lay back in his seat, and 'harrrumn'ed for the second time.  
  
“Believe it or not, I was a young man once. A lot of my friends were – you mind me swearing?”  
  
“Go... Go right ahead.”  
  
“They were shitheads. Absolutely the scum of the earth. I probably should've stood up to them more, but, can't change the past. But a few of them turned out okay, and – talking to them, I don't know. Saved my life.”  
  
Nagura shrugged.  
  
“Maybe it'll never be like that for you, never be quite that serious. But – you're just clinging to one guy, way I see it. You can't do that forever, Yuri.”  
  
Her smile flickered, a little capriciously.  
  
“Well... Well, you don't _know_ me that well. I'm very...”  
  
“Oh, I'm not saying you physically can't. But it'd be a little sad. A life like that? Just books and – one person, alone with you...”  
  
She glanced away, and wished her hair was short again.  
At least she could push it away, now, and pretend that she was only focused on it.  
  
“Maybe... Maybe that's all I've ever wanted. Somebody to...”  
  
A home is a construct.  
It doesn't necessarily have two people; it can have twenty, or one.  
But a home depends on people believing in it, loving it – truly living.  
  
She felt – almost as if, despite living here...  
  
…  
  
“Friends, huh... Do you... There aren't a lot of people who want to talk to me. For – for several reasons...”  
  
“Stop talking about those damn books, girl. Nobody cares about them.”  
  
And she knew he was right, but the words stung, even still.  
  
“Well... What should I talk about, then? They're – all I care about really. And... And I try to care about other things, I really do! But then people just get – angry at me, Daigorou got angry at me, and I'm not sure why – “  
  
“Hold up, Yuri – “  
  
“ – It was like he didn't even want me to care about what he cared about, when I'm just trying to... To... What am I doing...”  
  
She could feel her shoulders heave, but no tears came.  
Across the table from where she sat, Nagura sighed.  
  
“Listen. Yuri... I – Well, I don't know. Some men might get scared if you're as interested in the things they are, I guess. I don't get kids, though – “  
  
“At, at least... That makes two of us...”  
  
“Yes, but you're too damn young t'be an old man just yet! Well, old woman, but my point stands. Just – try to tone it down. Talk less. Smile. You've got a nice smile.”  
  
“My teeth are crooked...”  
  
“Get braces! Ah, damn, I don't know if there's even a dortho-ontist in town...”  
  
“I'll only get braces if... You replace your missing teeth, so...”  
  
“Not happening. Anyway, it shouldn't matter. What matters is that you care, that you listen. And – don't be so loud, don't show that you care. Listen, without caring.”  
  
That seemed – like the opposite of how things should be, the utter opposite.  
She felt in her heart that people should love each other unconditionally, that even if you hated someone, respecting them – like a rival, in one of her novels...  
  
It was that sort of charity that was most important.  
  
Did everyone simply go through life...  
Not caring...  
  
“Well...”  
  
She inhaled deeply, exhaled; the scent of tea was gone, leaving only the dingier scents of exhaustion, matted dog-hair and smoke.  
  
“Maybe... You're right. Maybe I do need to... Find new friends. Care less.”  
  
“Thatta girl. Just – don't be a stranger, either. To me or other people. You can't crawl out of your shell, if you just keep crawling back into it.”  
  
Yuri smirked, because it reminded her a little of her grandfather, but saying that – she knew enough to knew there was no reason.  
First, make a stone of your heart –  
  
“All right, I'll... I'll follow your advice. Uhmn, I'm going to go look at the cats for a bit, and then I... I'll be going.”  
  
“Right, well, don't let me keep you.”  
  
He smiled – however briefly – and it was a genuine smile, tinged with sadness and lines and wrinkles.  
It was ancient and old and the only smile she'd ever seen that really matched him, the man that he was.  
  
She wanted to keep it as a perfect memory, put it into words and preserve it forever; so that she could look back on it, and know that Nagura could smile, too.  
  
But the cats outside demanded her attention, and the night was getting late; so she waved and left and watched them at play, and then walked silently on the pathway to her house.  
Towards a place called home.  
  
In spite of herself, she kept thinking about Nagura's words.  
  
She couldn't agree with all of them, not even most of them.  
But – that didn't mean she couldn't try. Girls...  
She'd never liked spending time with them growing up.  
  
They didn't want to be elegant or mature, but they pretended to be disgusted by things like bugs, or – or other things, and she didn't believe they really felt that way.  
... And they probably didn't, right?  
  
Maybe, though...  
  
Her brows locked against one another.  
  
Perhaps she'd never given any of them a real chance.  
What if – what if there was a girl out there who was willing to be her friend?  
To talk to her about – literature, and matters of the heart, and...  
All of it.  
  
She could feel her heart beating faster.  
  
… Would that be – could that be allowed, even just once, with one new friend...  
  
It was late when she got home, because she meandered; people were never out too late at night here, and the stars in the sky ahead had been terrifyingly beautiful.  
She'd felt – so small underneath them, and yet oddly warmed by them, even in the cool air.  
  
Both were perfect, and she felt filled with a strength she hadn't felt since she'd arrived.  
  
As if in a trance, she retreated along the familiar pathways of her house, up the stairs, and to her room – and started to write.  
The finished product was – awful, and she knew that if she gave it to Daigorou, he'd laugh it off in an instant.  
But...  
  
Her smile kept widening as she read it, each sappy and insipid line, each ending in a forced rhyme.  
It was awful, but she'd made it; it was hers. She could make more, too. Maybe...  
  
The smile stayed on her face as she stared up at the ceiling.  
  
If ink were her blood, then this was her soul.  
She couldn't give it up, but she could bury it, keep it hidden.  
And with that, maybe, just maybe, she could become the sort of girl that...  
That everyone loved.  
  
Dreams claimed her quickly, and it was the very next day that she delivered her confession to Daigorou.  
He – hadn't known how to react, of course, but that was fine; and she felt strong, again.  
  
It was the day after that, that she read about Nagura's death in the paper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Hey, I think your cute eyes  
> make me feel surprised  
> and when you believe in me  
> you end up setting me free  
> so will you be  
> together with me?
> 
> Yours, Yuri'


	7. VI. Ice

“Your time is awful, Yuri. I... Have you considered switching to a different team?”  
  
Their new coach rubbed foggily at his sideburns, not knowing how to talk to the fourteen-year old girl dragging herself angrily out of the water.  
It was fair, and she didn't mind.  
She wasn't angry at him, after all – only herself.  
  
“... I have. I'll keep considering it.”  
  
She'd kept growing, and dwarfed most of the boys at their school.  
And then she'd started to fill out, and it'd just kept happening; and she couldn't run as fast, or as naturally, and though some of the other girls had kept up their routines just fine...  
  
Yuri felt exhausted most of the time, a little ill whenever she ran too fast, swam too many laps.  
Her back ached all the time, even after Mrs. Yamamura's kindly, patient advice.  
Worst of all, however...  
  
People told you little lies; such as –  
  
_It's impossible for there to be sharks in a school swimming pool._  
This was a lie because there were girls with rows of teeth, sharp and hungry and ready for blood and flesh, eyes that saw her struggling, and a keen scent that could tell there was blood in the water...  
  
“Hey, Yuri. You gonna drop out yet?”  
  
Nanami was posing against the locker, like she usually did.  
She'd grown – fuller, too, like Yuri had.  
But she wasn't so... Gangly, and out of proportion, like she'd been...  
  
Stitched together from awkward women...  
  
Yuri gnashed her teeth, but said nothing.  
  
“Don't worry about holding us up. I'm good enough to support the entire team, so...”  
  
Nanami bounded along even as she showered, even as she dressed.  
She wasn't talking, but just – loitering, one step behind Yuri, every step of the way.  
  
“... Are you gonna talk to me? Hey, you could join the competitive reading team! Oh, wait, that's – not a thing, ya know!”  
  
“I'm... Aware...”  
  
Whispered Yuri.  
_And her head was pounding.  
  
_ The corridors were filled with people going to and fro about their busy lives, and the chaos of it would've normally been the perfect place to lose her, but Nanami was the kind of girl you couldn't shake, even if you tried.  
  
“Just leave, Yuri. I'm saying this as a friend – “  
  
And that was the other thing.  
Suddenly, almost overnight – girls had started doing that.  
Referring to her as their 'dear friend' when they'd never talked at all, never had any interests at all together, and just...  
  
Her vision swam, and Yuri forced herself to inhale.  
Exhale.  
  
“What... Are you saying... As a friend. Na... Nanami...”  
  
Nanami's closed palm slammed against one of the lockers.  
A few people glanced their way, but people are social creatures; and know enough to erase any incongruent images they see.  
  
“I'm saying that you need to drop out, you fucking stupid bitch. Because, you're bringing the whole team down, and if you bring us down, we can't win. I'm not gonna rot in this stupid, podunk – “  
  
Ah. _Ah.  
  
_ But that was the thing, Yuri thought to herself, and she licked at her lips. They felt very dry.  
The person that Nanami saw, the person Nanami thought she saw, that wasn't...  
Really...  
  
For a second time, metal made a jangling noise as her fist struck against it, with the last little bit of force she'd kept bottled up within her.  
  
Nanami quietly muttered an 'eep' as her eyes dilated, looking up into Yuri...  
Looming over her.  
  
And Yuri loved it, loved how tall she was, and here was this arrogant girl, trying to intimidate her, and –  
  
… And...  
  
She hadn't meant to get quite so close, but, the moment faded.  
Nanami was looking up at her with confused, slightly watery eyes. Had she...  
Had Yuri really looked so intense?  
  
~~And she hadn't realised the distance between them was so – so...  
  
~~ Panting, Yuri tried to apologise –  
  
“Hey, hey, hey, girls, break it up! Nanami, my girl didn't hurt you or anything, right? Yuri, you all right?”  
  
Daigorou, his hair slicked back, pushed through.  
He must have just finished practise himself, because he was absolutely drenched in sweat, but – he was happy, was almost always happy, these days.  
  
… And she resented his interference, but...  
  
But things had been better between them.  
Almost overnight, he'd went from not paying any attention to her, to crowing about her any chance he got, fawning over her in public...  
  
Spending his father's money on her, despite her protests...  
  
… Which was sweet.  
It really...  
  
“Oh, geeze, Gorou! Your girl and I were just having a chat between us women! By the way, you just get better and better out there...”  
  
He shrugged – an easy shrug, that implied a casual confidence not everyone could master.  
Privately, Yuri was jealous of it – so very jealous – because while she still struggled breaching the first layer of contact, Daigorou made friends easily, wherever he went.  
  
… And he lost them easily, too, but at least he _had_ them.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Chats between women, what the hell do you two even have in common. Yuri's gonna drop the team any day, now. Right, Yuri?”  
  
“... Prob... Probably.”  
  
_They all knew it.  
  
_ She did, he did, Nanami did.  
They all knew she couldn't keep it up.  
She couldn't keep up in track, couldn't keep up in swimming – what the hell could she keep up in..?  
  
“Yeah, so, no need for you to bother her. All right?”  
  
Nanami smiled a false, but friendly smile – and oozed off, glancing back only once.  
And Yuri had expected her to be angry or bitter, or hateful, but – she just looked...  
Confused.  
  
Maybe a little sad.  
  
Sighing, Yuri forced back a soft smile, and pecked Daigorou chastely on the forehead.  
  
“Awwww, what the hell is that?! People are gonna be embarrassed – “  
  
“I... Don't mind, really. Isn't that what love is about? Em... Embarrassment...”  
  
“No. It isn't at all.”  
  
He grumbled, frowning.  
She waited as he rooted through his locker – filled as it was with sport equipment and a few posters, a stale sandwich...  
  
“Yuri. I've been thinking. You and I, we should go on an official date. Since we haven't, yet.”  
  
“Oh... _Oh..._ ”  
  
Her heart begin to beat incredibly fast, faster than it had ever beaten before – a real, utterly real date...  
  
Just how was she supposed to react to that?  
Of course, it was something she'd wanted for ages – and the idea of it made the smile on her lips that much more genuine.  
  
But...  
  
Something about the way he said it...  
  
“Yeah. I mean, all the shit we've done has been kiddy stuff. I wanna go see a movie or something.”  
  
That seemed – like a good, safe first option.  
Even if she only liked – a few movies, and Daigorou had...  
Vetoed them rather strongly, after her first and only attempt to convince him.  
  
“All... All right! I'll – I don't mind paying for it. I'm working at the – “  
  
“Yuri, c'mon. A man pays for this, at least in _my_ town. My dad'd never stop laughing at me if I let a girl pay for anything.”  
  
There was a brief pause, and they both avoided glancing at each other; perhaps, better to pretend that the weather outside was a fierce thunderstorm...  
  
“Well, anyway. It's cool, but working – why don't you just... Ugh, forget about it. So, a romance cool?”  
  
“Anything is.”  
  
“Oh, hell yes, in that case, there's this new thriller from across the sea, it looks fucking great, I mean, with explosions and b... Uh, stuff in it...”  
  
“Y, you... Can say... Breasts, you know. I don't mind.”  
  
“Awwww, you're the best, Yuri! Well, it's got guns and boobs and battles and – “  
  
Daigorou told her the entire plot of the movie as they left school together.  
It sounded kind of like every other movie Daigorou liked, and she felt as if they'd had this conversation a million times before; but...  
  
She didn't mind it, either.  
  
Even if it weren't her own choice, for his sake, she didn't mind watching it...  
And sometimes, if Daigorou was in an especially good mood afterwards, they might talk about it, a little?  
  
Perhaps a theatre would be a good place for – for something, like that...  
  
“Anyway, Yuri. I'll see you later, so...”  
  
“Wait, tonight?”  
  
“Oh, don't tell me you've got something planned?”  
  
… It was the time when her mother usually called, but then again – she'd missed the last call, and the one before that.  
Yuri bit her lip, felt it might burst, felt the pressure overwhelming her...  
And finally, relented.  
  
“... N... Nothing, really. I'll – see you later, so please don't leave me alone...”  
  
Daigorou war-whooped and punched the air, humming a pop song as he wandered off with a little sway of his hips.  
She – liked this side of him the best, and kind of wished it was the side that he always had, but...  
  
One of her friends had written that love was acknowledging all the different parts of a person.  
That you might find something beautiful, even in that which you hated.  
And if you could do that – how fortunate a lover you might be.  
  
She – didn't know if she agreed with all of it, but...  
  
Dressing up was a little harder, since she didn't go shopping very often.  
Mrs. Yamamura had given her some fashion advice but, it was...  
Ah, well. It was very old-fashioned and not exactly the sort of advice that'd appeal to the sensibilities of a young man...  
  
Or, perhaps it would?  
  
Weighing up her options, she finally settled on a somewhat-fitting tank-and-jeans ensemble that didn't suit her at all, didn't entirely seem like date-night fair, and left her arms feeling cool in the autumn air.  
  
The air itself was cool all the time, now, and if she were honest – she adored it.  
It was at this time of the year that she felt most alive; like there was a tiny storm in her that refused to lose motion, a bound devil in a brass vessel...  
  
Daigorou wandered towards, a par of knock-off sunglasses perched smartly against his brow.  
Arms stretched out wide and skywards, he shot her an incredibly smug grin, and a wry wink.  
  
“YoooOoooo! Yuri, I hope you weren't waiting here too long. My dad chewed me out, the bastard. Guy thinks he's some big shot, well, maybe he'll get what's coming to him, one day...”  
  
She – didn't know what to say about that.  
The venemous way Daigorou spoke, sometimes...  
It wasn't something she wanted to tell him, or encourage in any way, but – just a little...  
  
She kind of...  
Understood...  
  
“Please don't think about... Your father, when we're... On our... First official date!”  
  
“Ugh, you already made it a thousand times worse, Yuri. Did you already pick up tickets?”  
  
“What... Happened to a man, paying his way...”  
  
He scowled from down below, and she stopped laughing before she risked seriously setting him off...  
Before revealing the tickets with a flourish of her fingers.  
  
“T... Tadaa! I really hope this one has... All the guns, and explosions and... Boobs you promised, though. If I found out I... Spent my money on a... A lackluster knockoff...”  
  
“What, are you saying I'd get taken in by a cheap forgery? We might be a backwater, but there's no way the theatre people'd pawn some kinda imitation film off on us. Small town folk have their pride, right?! We stick together!”  
  
And the two of them sat in the theatre.  
… The theatre which was...  
Almost empty...  
  
Nervousness fell over her.  
It'd started only recently, but she'd become truly aware of – how different they were.  
Not just as, as friends, but as...  
  
He slouched in his seat. The casual haze of his breath, just visible against the poorly lit and poorly heated theatre.  
… It was, cold... In here...  
  
"Y'know, why do they make the advertisements so long, anyway? I hate waiting for the feature, and, like, what, I'm gonna spend my spare cash at a hardware store – “  
  
Her face was red, but she couldn't stop thinking about any of it.  
That _had_ to have been his reason, right?  
And maybe, maybe that was – all right, but...  
  
“ – but, I don't know. I think foreign movies have better action, but the plots are always a disappointment. Like, who believes the over-muscled asshole can survive a shot to the face? If I were the shooter I'd just be... Pew. Fucker'd be dead.”  
  
She gulped back air, risked a glance at him.  
  
Daigorou glanced back – lowered his sunglasses and muttered it again.  
  
“... I... I... I agree, about it...”  
  
“Uh? About what?”  
  
_“All of it.”_  
  
“That I'd lay pretty much anybody out flat? Well. Obviously. I mean, that's what I'm gonna do with my life. I'm gonna go to the city, and start acting. I think I've got it in me. Yeah?”  
  
Some of her blush faded, and she smiled – softly, just a little.  
  
“Of... Of course. If that's what you want to do... This week.”  
  
His scowl came back all too quickly, and he crossed his arms against his chest.  
  
“Yuri... I didn't ask for your fucking opinion. I said I'm gonna do it. That's all that matters, right, saying it. So don't – just go...”  
  
“Sorry...”  
  
Looking away, she remained silent until the movie began to play.  
  
As for the movie itself – it was precisely what was advertised on the ticket, but...  
It was _also_ a cheap imitation of a famous blockbuster from that one place all the famous foreign films came from.  
So – an imitation of an imitation, probably, after the dubbing had been added.  
  
In spite of all that – she found herself absolutely adoring the simple, utterly braindead plot.  
Daigorou seemed bored and nervous halfway through, leaving to get water several times.  
  
The second time...  
  
Bravery, like the bravery of the iron-jawed main lead, washed over her.  
Her left hand crept close to his, and reached for it.  
… If he noticed, the slight press of his hand pushed it away.  
  
_Yet it didn't seem as if he'd noticed, at all.  
  
_ The rest of the movie flew by much quicker, after that.  
She wasn't sure – how she felt.  
Relieved, depressed, nervous, hopeful that maybe this could be the start of a future, at least...  
  
So many things, all together, all at once.  
  
When he left the third time, and didn't come back, she hardly noticed it.  
  
The last act of the film had been tacked on by the production studio, or perhaps the localisers.  
It was composed of different footage, from films that were assuredly different.  
In it, a new character who was probably supposed to be the hero hung over a ledge by sheer grit, alone.  
  
A suspiciously effete villain laughed nasally down at the hero, and muttered some forgettable death threat.  
  
But the hero looked back with a glint in his venemous green eyes, and muttered –  
  
**I'd rather die.  
  
** Then, he let go off the cliff.  
  
She watched, transfixed, alone in the theatre.  
Perhaps she even gasped, a hand held to her lips.  
  
As the hero, or his stunt-double fell, someone had synchronised an old piece of classical music, probably something that no longer had any copyright or recognition of its own; if it was anything, it was a ghost of music, forgotten, unremembered.  
  
His fall continued for minutes, and she glanced briefly at her father's watch to check the time – it'd been ten minutes since he began the plunge.  
And he just kept falling.  
  
Slowly, the camera began to zoom into his face – a steely face, perfect in every way. Not – attractive, necessarily.  
**Perfect,** without blemish, without regret.  
  
The hero smiled, and shut his eyes. The screen grew dark, and fuzzy, and played a blurry black-and-white slideshow of several of moments from the prior 2/3rd's of the film. The hero's war medals, his girlfriend, his beloved pet.  
And then – and then the screen cut to the final act.  
  
Smashed against jagged rocks, his fist stretched out towards the sun, the hero burbled.  
Drool and spittle and clay poured from his mouth, and blood, as well.  
A mixture of practical effects that were embarrassingly bad and transfixingly good...  
  
Everything made it look as if he were really dying, in front of her.  
And the camera simply lingered.  
  
No credits rolled, no explanation, the music continued to play.  
  
Her heart kept beating, and Yuri – unable to help herself, held out her hand towards the screen.  
As if he could see her, the hero shut his eyes, breathing raggedly.  
  
Painfully small credits in white text attached themselves over his form as it grew still, and in the background, birds began to gather – at first overhead, and then closer, pushing each other away, eager to....  
  
Eager...  
  
“Oh, man, they really went there? Fuck, I can't believe it. The hero should always win, right? Disappointing, sorry, Yuri. Ugh. Who'd like something like this, right?”  
  
Daigorou returned, scratching at his trousers – she would've laughed, normally, but...  
He backed away a step – eyes wide.  
  
She realised how she must have looked, and forced herself to remember.  
To _breathe._  
  
“Y... You're definitely right. It's trash, isn't it. Absolute... Filth.”  
  
“There you go, geeze, you scared me, Yuri. Aha, a pretty girl like you shouldn't get so... Intense, all right? Just – stay by my side. Hey, we can go get some crepes if you want – “  
  
But she couldn't hear him.  
The piano had finished playing, a crystalline tone of regret hanging off the last note.  
The screen faded to black, then the blurry logo of whatever studio had produced the cobbled-together abomination of a film, then black again.  
  
And the theatre was drenched in light.  
  
“Do... Do you mind if I just wait here, for a moment...”  
  
“Go for it, actually... Uh...”  
  
She paid no attention to his peculiar glance, either.  
That wasn't important, really.  
She just – had to keep watching, because there had to be more, something more to it than...  
  
_There wasn't, though._  
  
Black cellulite remained black; then faded to a familiar cavalcade of local advertisements, and advertisements paid for by businesses that weren't even present in the area; useless ads, a bombardment of television signals that served, ultimately, no-one.  
  
And the attendant hadn't arrived yet, so...  
  
She buried her head in her hands and wept.  
Ragged breaths, like the hero had.  
  
_It had been so beautiful. It had been a masterpiece of cinema.  
The cuts on his torso, where his intestines had met stone, had looked almost real.  
The pain on his face, but the satisfaction of having denied the villain his final victory, had been more poignant than any other possible end, in any film...  
  
_ The words jangled together in her mind, one after the other, and she couldn't stop them.  
She could still hear the soulful howl of the piano, what had the piece been called, had it even had a name?  
  
No, what if it had been composed specifically for this film, and there was – no record of it?  
And she'd never hear it again?  
  
_Breathe.  
  
_ Her focus returned to her, and Yuri noticed the attendant – staring at her with bug-eyes and a nervousness that, to be fair, she probably deserved.  
  
“S... Sorry. I... Always get...”  
  
They nodded at each other, and parted ways as only complete strangers can.  
She could feel her head pounding as she nearly waltzed into the cold night air, exuberant, victorious – she wanted to howl.  
  
No, she wanted to lower herself to all fours and simply make noise, to let the world know that she'd appreciated the disgusting beauty that none of them would ever see, that someone might remember it –  
  
But that would've been – crazy, of course, and so she kept it inside.  
  
It – hadn't been what she expected, of course, but that was fine.  
Daigorou – if he wanted to take his time, he was free to do so, wasn't he?  
And she didn't mind it all, because...  
  
Well, honestly, because she liked this side of him, too, and...  
  
_Speaking of Daigorou...  
  
_ The cold sunk into her skin.  
She began to grow – nervous, without knowing exactly why.  
Maybe it was the rush of having seen something that spoke to her, but, after all of that...  
If something were to happen to him, because she'd let him wonder off...  
  
Of course, it was a small town, and she was just getting paranoid. Perhaps it was...  
All the rest of it, weighing down on her.  
  
But – she'd found Yuugiri and the cats good homes –  
And though she'd wanted to adopt one for herself...  
She knew a girl like her wasn't the sort of person to take care of animals.  
  
Her bitterness lasted only a moment.  
  
“Daigorou! Daigorou! I... I hope you're not... Planning on... Sneaking... Into another film? Uhmn... At least not without me...”  
  
The skip in her step made her feel light, and not – odd, out-of-body, like she felt most of the time.  
It was pleasant simply to be.  
  
Crowds milled around the theatre-front, waiting patiently in line for their films to start; it wasn't as if the venue was entirely popular, but there wasn't a whole lot of competition.  
So families and their children, older couples...  
  
Of all the gathered people, however, there was no sign of Daigorou.  
  
Yuri's brows knit together, and she felt it.  
That incredible, heavy sensation – like the sun, shining down upon her, like a luminous weight, or a chain around her feet.  
  
The alleyway behind the theatre was dark, and she wasn't entirely sure why her feet had lead her down the narrow streets; perhaps the same reason they led her anywhere.  
  
Sometimes, she just – wandered, to and fro, as if she had no control over herself, at all.  
  
“Dai... Daigorou...”  
  
Her whisper caught in the air, cold and flickering, and she wanted to shout it – to repeat the words aloud, but –  
  
Now, she could hear a sound.  
A meaty sound, animalistic and primal. Wet sounds, slippery sounds; and very occasionally...  
A quiet, withheld grunt, or a moan.  
  
Yuri hid behind the corner her face torn asunder with red.  
Daigorou's heavy glance over his shoulder must have missed her, because – the sounds resumed.  
  
She could hear Nanami's panting breath, the way she whispered his name – so intimately, so maturely – and, and all of a sudden it was over, and she was hiding behind the corner, crouched to the ground, feeling as if her knees might knock against each other.  
  
The air was cold, and capricious.  
  
Nanami was laughing quietly – lighting a cigarette.  
Yuri hated how calm she seemed, how happy she seemed, how casual she seemed.  
How the off-yellow light from the alleyway suited her, made her seem – more independent...  
  
Bits of conversation drifted across the air to her, but it didn't seem as if they had anything in common at all; Nanami said one thing, and then Daigorou responded with something else entirely, and they just – were happy, like that, or didn't care.  
  
No – it didn't matter.  
**It had never mattered.  
  
** Yuri sunk to the ground, further, huddling around her waist. The cool brick was comforting at least, and the silence was – calming.  
She could breath, here.  
  
She'd...  
  
“... Shit. Shit, shit, shit... Yuri.”  
  
Her fingers caught against her hair, she stared Daigorou, who stared back at her, lips tightly pursed, as if he was making some kind of deep, and long-reaching decision.  
There were a thousand things she wanted to say to him, to yell at him to make him understand, but –  
  
For once, she found herself entirely without words, even in her own mind.  
  
She simply nodded at him, blankly.  
  
“You... Saw, then. Shit.”  
  
Daigorou repeated, as if that somehow made it better; as if swearing removed the way he'd hitched up has trousers as if nothing had just happened, and certainly didn't matter.  
But – but, as the yellow light swam over them, a slight, calculating look danced across his face.  
  
“... Well, I won't lie, Yuri. Things have been difficult between us.”  
  
“They... They have...”  
  
She whispered, tasting each word as if it came from some foreign source.  
She wasn't truly talking, was she, just – saying what he wanted to hear...  
  
“Mmn. Mmnhmn. Yeah. And so, uh, to make this work you and I gotta... We gotta make this work together.”  
  
“There's... Still a chance..?”  
  
“Yeah, there is, Yuri. But see, here's the thing – “  
  
Daigorou sauntered over, in the cold autumn light – his hands stuck in his pockets.  
He huddled down next to her, and gave her an appraising glance, as if he was solidifying his own plans, carefully.  
  
“ – Cause, if you want to make this work, I mean really make this work between us...”  
  
“... I...”  
  
_Did she?  
  
_ She – didn't know, didn't know at all –  
  
With a grin, Daigorou held his fingers under her chin, pushed it up.  
They were at the same height, scrunched down against the ground like this.  
His smile was friendly, and encouraging.  
  
“Yeah. Well. If you want to make it work, we're going to need to move a little faster.”  
  
She hesitated, for what felt like an eternity; maybe it was; her answer, as ephemeral as the light above, finally escaped her lips.  
  
“... All... I...”  
  
Much later that night, she returned home.  
  
The message from her mother went unlistened to that day, and the next day, and the day after that – but time continued to pass...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm also a fan of 'dead' movies. The kind that don't even exist on a VHS somewhere. That only played locally, once, and then disappeared.  
> Lost forever.
> 
> Stuff like that is kind of romantic, in this age of perfect preservation.
> 
> Or perhaps that's just me.


	8. VII. Dream of the Red Chamber

“Yuri, you can't keep avoiding your father and I, like this. I know it's – incredibly tough, but you have to be strong. If you aren't going to explain why your grades are going down – “  
  
“My grades are fine.”  
  
Her lie into the phone was perfectly practised, and perfectly rehearsed.  
Even her mother stopped, trying to figure out if the young woman on the other end of the line was lying to her, couldn't be lying...  
  
“I... Yuri, I received your grades. I – I don't know why you're lying to me. Honey, I don't care about the reasons, but I – “  
  
“My grades are fine.”  
  
She repeated again, a little more quietly.  
  
The living room had grown a bit more dusty; she'd found that there was a very specific pattern she took when she got home from school, or her part-time, and there was no need to compliment it by shaking things up.  
At times, she found the trails where the dust met bare wood fascinating.  
  
Perhaps a stranger would come in, at some point, a historian of things like that, and divine what it meant about her, about her habits –  
  
Her mother's tone only grew more and more frustrated...  
And confused.  
  
“Please, Yuri... I know I'm a terrible mother. I – “  
  
“... You aren't...”  
  
Whispered Yuri, even though every fibre of her being wanted her to yell into the phone, tell her parents to _go die_ if they'd just repeat themselves, like a broken record, over and over again, but...  
  
One breath, then another.  
  
“Then, why, Yuri? If it's having trouble with something, we can tutor you, or, you can – you can do whatever you need to do, but if it's something serious, I swear – “  
  
“ **My grades are fine.** ”  
  
Her voice had fallen too, and outside of her nerves, she found she liked the contralto sound to it.  
The silence on the other side of the line felt good, even as she felt wretched for having spoken so tersely to her other, but...  
  
“... And... Anyway, mother... It's all fine. If you – _want to come check for yourself.._.”  
  
“I... I do, more than anything. Yuri...”  
  
“Like I, I said... It's fine.”  
  
The most peculiar thing was, that it truly was.  
Daigorou was very needy, of course, but he also got bored and had a wandering eye, so...  
Even though she was desperate to not be left alone, again...  
  
It was like waiting on someone, she decided.  
A lot like that.  
  
“Yuri! You're – No, no. Fuck...”  
  
Her mother's anguished whisper as footsteps behind her turned into a stream of angry, slightly drunkenly-slurred ramblings from her superior, made it clear that she'd over-extended.  
Silently, Yuri hung up the phone, and placed it back against the wall.  
  
Without reason, she smiled.  
  
The ceiling today – looked marvelous.  
  
Actually, she'd been avoiding going to classes for a whole slew of reasons.  
She didn't really feel like learning, anymore.  
More to the point, she thought she finally understood what everyone was always complaining to her about.  
  
Everyone there just chattered, just exchanged white noise sounds from the throat of a human-shaped animal, and that was that.  
There was no greater meaning to it.  
And then, when they felt like it, they rutted or fought one another.  
  
That was it.  
  
Her smile widened.  
Having finally figured it out – hurt, a bit, but felt good, too.  
  
Was this what it meant to be mature, perhaps – to be elegant?  
… She wasn't sure, yet.  
  
It was the sharp knock on the door that finally roused her from her reflection, and she eased her slippers on, then eased the chain back.  
… Yamamura, Jr.  
  
“Go away, please. I'm... Not interested in talking to your parents, right now.”  
  
“Er, but they miss spending time with you! Since I never get to see them, myself – “  
  
She slid the chain back, and closed the door – waited until he'd left to lie back against the floor and shut her eyes.  
Not too long after, the door received a secondary knock, this one lighter, more – secretive.  
  
“Aha, hey there! How's my girl doing? Good, right? I brought you some stuff. I think you'll like it, look how slinky it is – “  
  
She didn't hate the things he brought, or his rampant spending of money he didn't have, or any of that.  
Not really.  
But what she hated, despised more than anything else, was that she was supposed to act as if the relationship was...  
  
Normal, still.  
  
“I read another book, the other day.”  
  
His rolling eyes as he placed the dress back in a show-box that he'd probably return later, after his father had helped himself to a few drinks, was his only response.  
But if they were going to pretend that this was a relationship, she wouldn't care, either.  
  
“And it was truly interesting.”  
  
“Mmnhmn.”  
  
“Don't you... Want to hear about it, even a little...”  
  
“Yuri – you talk too much.”  
  
She really did, she'd realised.  
In the end, the only people who cared about words were people who wrote, probably; and they must have felt the same way their entire lives, as if they were in hiding from a vengeful tribe that craved nothing but the destruction of all they held dear.  
  
… It had been an interesting book, though.  
She'd thought that the final twist, and the final act of revenge, had been written in such a masterful way that she'd been left speechless.  
A very, very...  
  
“Anyway, pack your stuff.”  
  
…?  
  
“I told you, right? Ages and ages ago, that we were gonna go walk beyond the road and all that, well, I feel like you've been kinda down in the dumps, so – “  
  
She smiled brightly.  
  
Yes. That sounded lovely.  
  
It truly did.  
  
“Are you gonna say anything, or...”  
  
She shook her head, and went about gathering things, and putting them in her bookbag.  
Camping, was it...  
It'd been awhile, and she wasn't really in the best shape.  
Maybe it would've been fun if she knew anyone to go with, but...  
  
“You – uh, your place seems a little dusty, Yuri. You can gonna clean it up?”  
  
“No...”  
  
Her reply was so soft they both had to strain their ears to listen to it.  
Daigorou winced and shrugged his shoulders, but then added –  
  
“Look, it isn't as if I care that much, but I don't want you getting sick or anything like that. So, just, clean it up later.”  
  
“All right...”  
  
She lied, and he bought it with a smile.  
  
Outside, the Yamamura household's television was blaring some situational comedy from the 70's.  
Despite the pointlessness of it, she almost wanted to stay and watch it for awhile, but...  
There was no point, really, and she didn't feel like interacting with them, anyway.  
  
The night above them was dark, but of course he'd picked the night.  
She'd never realised it before, but planning wasn't his strong suit.  
It was obvious, of course, since he lived moment to moment – which simply meant that she was stupid for not having noticed it.  
  
Still...  
  
Inhale.  
Exhale.  
  
There was a feeling of adventure if she really put her mind to it, and a summer's night walk wasn't the worst thing. The steel phantoms of guard rails seemed like they could make for an interesting story, or perhaps an interesting poem.  
  
She'd been writing a lot of poems, recently, and Yuri liked to think she was getting a lot better at them.  
At first, her style had been cobbled together from the writers she liked most, both poetic and prosaic.  
  
But she'd learned that if she wanted to be like them, she needed to discard them.  
They were, after all, only figments of her imagination.  
They couldn't do anything to help or assist her in her day-to-day life...  
  
And if she could start over, it had probably been a waste of time to even read.  
  
Perhaps the ideal human simply ate, fucked, and died.  
  
“What are you grinning about, Yuri? You look like you had a particularly funny thought.”  
  
“... Mmn. I did.”  
  
He took a step back, in that cold breeze.  
She missed the way her skin had looked when it'd been lightly tanned in the summer, when she left her home and played and didn't – think, all the time.  
  
But her hair was so much longer now, and with the pale of her skin, she might as well be a phantasm, herself...  
And perhaps, one day, she'd join the likes of those vengeful spirits, and the thought widened her smile even more, displaying her crooked teeth.  
  
“Yuri... Stop looming down at me.”  
  
“Oh. I'm... Sorry.”  
  
She really was, actually.  
Hunching over felt a bit more comfortable, now, even if it made her leering all the more apparent.  
And she liked to leer at him, when he wasn't looking.  
Since he only looked at her at certain times, and when he wanted to make sure she was paying attention...  
  
There was quite a lot, she got away with...  
  
Ahead of them, the ghost of a hill rose up.  
It was vaguely familiar to her, though she couldn't tell why, exactly.  
  
“Hah, right on. There we are. We're gonna make it to the summit, which I guess doesn't sound too impressive, but, it's a start.”  
  
“Oh, a... A start..?”  
  
“Yeah. I'm gonna become a mountain climber, I think. I saw a documentary on mountain climbers, if you can believe it. There was this one guy that looked just like me, I mean, like they'd cut me and pasted me on the television screen. And...”  
  
Daigorou continued to speak, and she listened intently.  
Actually, even though she didn't care at all, it was surprisingly interesting.  
For one, she was pretty sure that the mountain he kept referring to didn't actually exist, therefore the documentary had probably just been exercising some creative license.  
  
Secondarily...  
  
Mountain-climbing sounded fun.  
Forcing yourself up against a steep hill, and the elements...  
If you succeeded, it was a triumph you'd only share with yourself, and maybe your team of select friends, if you had them.  
  
Failure, however...  
  
Her sigh was long, and dreamlike.  
With a whip of his shaggy hair, Daigorou glanced over his shoulder at her, and sighed, as well – in relief.  
  
“Yuri, sometimes you're really scary, you know that? I don't know if you're trying to seem like some sort of freak, but you just – anyway, I was talking about K8, right, and there's this prix, uh, contest, you wouldn't know what a prix is – “  
  
They climbed up the hill, Daigorou continuing to explain what a prix was.  
  
“ – and the trophy they award you is made of solid gold, or maybe it's plated in gold, I don't know. The dude who looked like me got it. He was pretty cool, but I could've taken him.”  
  
For once, the cool air seemed to hesitate the further they climbed – she could feel her pulse slowing, if she focused on it enough.  
Was that normal, when you climbed to a great enough height? How –  
  
Interesting...  
  
“D... Do you think a lot of mountaineers die, on... Competitive climbs, like that...”  
  
Silence was her only response at first, before Daigorou whipped back, walking backwards his arms thrown out and a look of utter disbelief on his face.  
  
“Whwha, what the hell, Yuri! Of course they don't, that's – that's fucking crazy, I mean if mountaineers died all the time, we'd probably here about it and nobody would be allowed to climb mountains anymore, right?”  
  
“... That... That makes sense. I'm sure there's a... Mountain Prix Advisory Board... That protects all the mountaineers...”  
  
“See, even you get it. Sometimes I feel like I'm talking to a brick wall.”  
  
“C... Could be...”  
  
Moss-covered stones around them proved harder to scrabble over, and her gangly arms and legs did her no favours.  
She could feel sharp edges cutting against the palm of her hand but didn't really care about it, one way or the other.  
The cuts were very superficial, anyway.  
  
“Oh, fuck, I don't know where we are – gimme a second to intuit, uh, direction...”  
  
She nodded silently, and sat against a particularly large erratic stone.  
It felt comfortably smooth, and provided a decent view of the sky – even though several trees still survived up here.  
  
For a hill, it went pretty high...  
Perhaps it really was a tiny mountain?  
Or perhaps they'd just wandered until absolutely lost...  
  
Daigorou slapped his leg and grinned, punching the air ecstatically.  
  
“Ah, sorry, nevermind! I just realised we're close to the summit! We're gonna have an awesome view of the stars, Yuri! It's gonna be great! And then we can watch the sun rise, together!”  
  
_I don't want to watch the sun rise, with you.  
I don't want to watch the stars, with you.  
I don't want to see the same things as you do.  
  
_ She forced herself to keep breathing, but there was something else, stirring inside of her.  
Recently, when her headaches had gotten especially bad, she heard – sounds.  
Not whispers or voices, but...  
  
Distorted peels of sound that almost could have been static, if they weren't so continuous.  
  
And, it was odd, but she found them incredibly comforting.  
Perhaps because she associated them with the end of headaches, rather than the beginning, but...  
  
“Th... That's lovely. Let's... Get there, and... Set up camp. All right?”  
  
“Yeah. That's definitely the plan. Move it, Yuri!”  
  
She got up before he did, and walked ahead of him.  
Beyond, the treeline gave away, branch by branch and leaf by leaf – and the view did open up, and despite her resentment, lingering like a pain in the back of her head...  
  
It was quite beautiful.  
  
All of the town was visible from up here, and the distant lights of the city, if you strained your eyes hard enough.  
Daigorou, wheezing a little behind her, whistled as he came to a stop at her side, hands jauntily held to his hips.  
  
“Wow... We finally made it. Childhood goal, achieved! Huh, am I right?”  
  
“... Yes...”  
  
_Had it ever been her childhood goal?_  
She couldn't remember. Were they still children, or adults?  
She didn't feel like an adult, yet, and didn't feel as if anything she'd done – any of it...  
Had been particularly mature.  
  
She just felt – tired.  
  
“Yuri, don't go to sleep on me without helping me set up the tent, at least? I don't want to get caught out here, butt-naked, if it starts raining. I mean... Can you imagine what it'd be like to wander back to town, drenched? We'd have to go without clothes, right?”  
  
“Of course. That... Makes perfect sense.”  
  
He frowned, looked as if he wanted to scowl or chastise her, but – she had agreed with him, right?  
It made perfect sense. Anyway, they were together, so it didn't really matter.  
Walking around naked with the person you loved was fine.  
  
To be honest, not even being seen naked would bother her; it wasn't her body, anyway.  
  
All of this – from the beginning until the end – must have been some kind of mistake. That...  
That was all of it.  
  
Setting up the tent went swiftly, even when Daigorou got distracted with something, she wasn't sure what.  
And it was a nice tent, too; it'd be a shame when Daigorou eventually returned it, with a bundle of apologies, and claimed it had 'been like that since they found it.'  
  
Or whatever he'd claim, for whatever damage he'd get up to.  
  
The flash caught her off guard, at least at first.  
  
“... Are you going to be a... Photographing mountaineer, too?”  
  
“I'm considering it. I mean, think about the possibility! Take pictures up high on the mountaintops, sell them to tourists at the mountain bottoms, everyone gets what they want.”  
  
“So, the picture you just took...”  
  
His grin faded a little, at the edges.  
  
“Well, I'm gonna take a lot of pictures. It's my camera, I can do what I want with it. Let me lay it down for you – I just want to ensure that you don't think about getting a little on the side.”…  
  
She burst out laughing, laughed until she felt like she might cry, but of course, the tears wouldn't come.  
He'd gone from looking offended, to looking nervous, to not looking at her at all, which was –  
  
_Priceless,_ really.  
  
An idiot like her had thought he... With his inability to even meet her eyes...  
How stupid, useless, ugly – how wretched was she?  
  
Wiping at her eyes as if there were tears there, tears that she couldn't see, she leaned in and over him, smiling softly. He took a step back, but none further.  
  
“... Blackmail, then. D... Do you really think I'd be... The type to cheat on you, Daigorou...”  
  
He scratched at the back of his head, now grown-over and shaggy and more like a really sad mane than any particular hairstyle, long or short.  
  
“Well, I mean...”  
  
Since _he_ would, without thinking, it was only natural that _she_ would, too.  
But Yuri knew better, knew herself better. Love, after all, was eternal.  
If you loved somebody, you'd endure anything, absolutely anything for their sake.  
  
And she still loved him. Still believed in love.  
  
If it had transformed into something else as well, who could say – and who cared.  
  
“Y... You can take what you like. If it makes you... Feel better.”  
  
“Don't – stop fucking with me! I'm gonna, I'll take all the pictures, and I'll spread them around school, all right?”  
  
She shrugged, and his face fell.  
  
“C'mon. Wait, no. Wait...”  
  
With a hum, Daigorou begin pacing back and forth, chin held in his hands.  
He was silent for some time before speaking, and when he did, his voice had a low and quiet menace in it that wasn't entirely directed at her, perhaps wasn't directed at anything.  
  
“... Yuri. You'd – you'd stay with me even if I asked you to do something crazy, wouldn't you?”  
  
Her silence was an answer, too.  
  
“If I said... Show your tits to the baseball club, you'd do it? If I said – “  
  
Daigorou trailed off, staring at her expectantly.  
If he expected anything at all, he would be sorely disappointed...  
As all she could find it in her to do was to stare back.  
Quiet. Unblinking.  
  
… That was enough for him, and he grinned widely, eyes shut.  
  
“Man, I can't believe we met, Yuri. You're the best. Am I a lucky guy, or what?”  
  
She said nothing about that, either, but set to making a small fire.  
Since she hadn't eaten, and her parents would've chastised her if she didn't eat something –  
  
Did she really care about that? She knew she did, somehow, but...  
  
“Instant noodles? Well, I hope you brought enough for me, too.”  
  
“... Yes. I t... Try to think ahead, since it never hurts to... Be prepared. After all, if... A bear or something... Chased you through the hills, and... Devoured you, or something...”  
  
“Point, Yuri.”  
  
“... I'd hate for you to not have had a... Home-cooked meal, first.”  
  
He didn't get it, but she found it pretty funny.  
And though she hated herself for conceding the point – her glance up revealed the stars to be beautiful, indeed.  
  
Each tiny point of light shone in a slightly different hue; blue and white and yellow, a few seeming almost purple or green.  
Daigorou had already gotten somewhat bored of the sight, and set to flipping through a magazine, but...  
  
Laying back against the stone, she stared into the ceiling of the sky.  
  
Stars were like eyes, perhaps.  
A sea of eyes, that could pierce even your soul.  
One of the philosophers had written something about that, about stars being the reincarnated energy of the great thinkers of the world.  
  
It sounded ridiculous, even to her, but she still liked the idea.  
  
Yes.  
  
Even here, she wasn't truly alone.  
She'd never been truly alone.  
And the stars, were truly beautiful.  
And if there were some kind of god...  
  
“What are you thinking about, Yuri?”  
  
“... D... Do you ever feel insignificant, Daigorou.”  
  
“Not really. I mean, I guess when I get sick and I can't spend time with you, but otherwise? No. I get bored a lot, but that's it.”  
  
The thing was, he was always _honest_ about topics like this, if she phrased it right.  
And the worst part was that she could still see the tiny part of him she knew, buried deep within, and, the thought of being....  
  
Of truly being alone...  
  
“We, well... When you get bored, do you ever – play a kind of game, where you look up at the sky, or the... The ceiling...”  
  
“Uh..?”  
  
“And you just... Wonder if there's anything else out there. Anything worthwhile at all.”  
  
“No, not at all. And that doesn't sound like a game, Yuri. It sounds... Kinda stupid. I mean, okay, listen.”  
  
Daigorou leaned against the ground next to her, and pointed to a constellation at random – Ursa Minor.  
  
Perhaps he really would be devoured by a bear...  
  
The thought made her want to chuckle, again, but his serious expression was better than a moment's laughter, or loneliness, so, she waited as he opened his lips as if to speak, but instead chewed his words over, and over again...  
  
“All of this is just dumb luck. None of us are ever gonna leave this fucking town. Except me. I'm gonna. I'm definitely gonna. And, all of this – I mean the sky, now, the universe...”  
  
His arms spread wide, and fell to the earth at his side.  
  
“In the end, it's just there to distract you. If you think about it too much, you'll waste your time, and wrinkle up, and then you'll be dead. And what's the point of that, when, I mean... Okay, I want to live forever.”  
  
She frowned.  
  
“That... I can't imagine a more... I wouldn't – wish that upon my worst enemy.”  
  
He frowned at her frown, sat up and dug at his hair with a fury that she couldn't understand because – _because_ she couldn't understand it.  
Try and try again to listen, it felt like she was – making fun of him, maybe, but she wasn't?  
And when she made fun of him, he didn't care...  
  
“Yuri, you're so fucking stupid! Look, I put up with you because we're old friends and you've got an amazing body – “  
  
She said nothing.  
Wondered if that was it; if the moment she'd become a 'woman' she'd lost any chance at being his friend, or understanding him.  
If it would've been like that for anyone.  
  
He was still talking, and she heard the words, but, it was just a rehashing of how they'd met, and how lucky she was to be with him.  
  
But if he'd just told her he wanted her, she could've lived with that.  
It felt – rushed, but it wasn't awful. She could forget she was alive in the moment.  
Probably why the French had that term for it.  
  
That was fine.  
  
And it wasn't that she couldn't deal with his complaints and his anger towards her.  
She'd screwed something up, somewhere along the line, and she wasn't sure what it was, but...  
  
She felt it too. Certainly.  
  
It was – the terrible idea that, at the end of it all, when he eventually grew tired of her, she'd be alone.  
And there was going to be no second chance.  
It was almost funny; his blackmail attempts didn't seem frightening at all, or all his boisterous rambling.  
  
No.  
  
The only thing that frightened her, really, was the fact that he'd mention they'd been together and then, that was it.  
  
She'd only ever made one friend, here, and she'd greedily attempted to turn that friend into a lover.  
And when she lost him – she wouldn't have any friends at all.  
It would finally have happened.  
  
Her parents wouldn't come back.  
Daigorou wouldn't come back.  
  
And people didn't want to interact with a disgusting...  
Ghoul, like herself.  
Some ill-proportioned...  
  
“Anyway, that's how I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna get a car, and I'm just gonna drive until I reach Osaka. It'll be rough, but it's me, so.... Yeah, I'll do it. Geeze, Yuri are you even – “  
  
**“I believe in you.”  
  
** The seconds transfigured themselves into minutes, into what felt like hours.  
Daigorou stared at her, agape, not sure what to say.  
  
“You – You really do, huh?”  
  
“Of... Of course. Because you're the greatest.”  
  
And it took him even longer to realise it, and when he did, Daigorou howled with laughter, as if it was exceptionally funny – but she'd meant it, of course, like she meant almost everything she said – even the jokes.  
  
He was the sort of person who succeeded, somehow.  
  
She could imagine him cruising along the highway in a modern car, probably rented and then totaled, and somehow – just navigating it as if it never happened.  
  
Maybe that was how people viewed her grandfather.  
Maybe it was how people viewed her parents.  
Perhaps that had been the reason nobody was willing to be friends with her; she'd been doomed before she'd even gotten a start...  
  
“Anyway, Yuri. I'm – sleepy, I mean actually sleepy. So – what do you say we turn in for the night?”  
  
“P... Please. I'm tired too, after all. It was a long night, for me.”  
  
He gave her the usual confident wink, and crept into the tent, but she waited for a few more precious minutes with the stars.  
  
They shone down upon her, and seemed to be speaking in quiet voices – but she could not hear their sounds, even as her head absolutely pounded.  
It felt as if there were something inside struggling to break free, but...  
  
It wasn't important, probably.  
  
She followed Daigorou into the tent, lay on the ground next to his sleeping bag, and went to sleep with a practised ease.  
What woke them was the sound of thunder; and the howl of wind, and pouring rain. Daigorou grumbled, and went back to sleep.  
But...  
  
As if in a trance, Yuri left the tent.  
The sun had already risen, a deadly red as it hung bloated and decaying in the clouded grey sky.  
It felt as if the clouds were surrounding it like hungry insects, and the star was decaying its own filth.  
  
Her heart beat; her head trembled, and danced.  
  
Rain fell against her skin, and she held her hands out, and wasn't sure why.  
  
The roar of thunder shook again, and she exhaled sharply, not bothering to breath with it.  
When she thought of herself, she thought of storms; and that, too, had been taken from another, but she clung to it, cherished it as the cool rainwater caressing her skin.  
  
Perhaps she'd get terribly sick herself, on the climb back down.  
  
Cool rain continued to fall, and the third thunderous cry finally picked Daigorou up from his rest.  
Grumbling and shaking a fist at the sky, he turned to her to speak – and simply stared, expression more enigmatic than she'd ever seen, in all her years of knowing him.  
  
“What are you thinking...”  
  
She whispered, and the wind nearly hid her words.  
  
But he heard them, and sighed, and crouched down amongst the rock, and stared at his hands intently.  
  
“Dunno. Who the fuck knows. I don't know. Maybe I just regretted something. I – I really don't know. Are you ready to go, or were you just gonna wait here with the rain, all day?”  
  
“I... Perhaps...”  
  
She admitted, and knelt down to help him up.  
He scowled, but took her hand regardless.  
  
A downhill climb was normally a more leisurely affair than the battle uphill, but the rain must have gone on all night, and through the morning; for in addition to each tiny droplet scything through their skin, the ground had become a thick and muddy slurry, all too easy to slip through.  
  
His pace had been quite – aggressive, at first, but slowed down as Daigorou realised just how dangerous the terrain had become.  
A sheer bluff they'd traversed earlier had given away beneath them, leaving nothing but a roiling wall of muddy, watery soup.  
  
“Gross. I bet all sorts of mosquitoes and junk live in that. Don't stick your hand in, unless you're up to date on your shots!.. C'mon, it was funny.”  
  
“... It is... Gross, isn't it...”  
  
Yuri murmured, staring at the bracken-brown mess.  
It devoured branches and leaves indiscriminately, one after the other, seemingly insatiable.  
And it continued to spin them through its hungry maw, as if there were no end in sight – as if there was no end.  
  
She almost reached out to touch it, but held herself back.  
  
A nervous glance towards Daigorou, struggling to cut his own path, revealed that he hadn't noticed, thankfully.  
When he managed to finally pry back some kind of large-leaved shrubbery, holding it open like a door, she nodded gratefully and moved past him.  
  
“Honestly, this wasn't bad, Yuri. If you can just – be like this, more often, we'll make a great family.”  
  
“... Mmn.”  
  
“You – don't object? Sweet. I – I think I always wanted a wife. I mean, I don't know. I just... I don't know...”  
  
A mote of pity showed, and it was too much; his faced contorted into an ugly grimace, and he pushed past her, grumbling to himself.  
  
Which was fine.  
It didn't matter if he loved her, hated her, or anything in between; because all of this, from the beginning until the end, had been her fault, brought upon her by her own hand.  
  
“... Just – one thing, Yuri. And I want you to really listen to this one, okay. No – spacing off, or whatever.”  
  
She drew to a stop, hunched over him with a questioning look upon her brow.  
Her lips slightly parted, Yuri wondered what new task he'd ask of her, or if it was just another rant about some career he wanted to chase, some attainable, or unattainable dream of the moment...  
  
Daigorou sighed, and sighed again.  
  
His eyes flickered from her, to the sky, to the mud in front of them.  
He focused a lot of attention on that, as if it mattered intensely to him.  
Maybe, in the moment...  
  
It did.  
  
“So, you'd do pretty much anything I'd ask you to, right? I mean – anything?”  
  
The rain fell down around them, and she was utterly silent.  
Silence, too, was an answer.  
But in the name of love, or stability, or the dream of love – or none of it at all, her answer was clear as their reflections, scattered amongst rain.  
  
He nodded, and crossed his arms against his chest.  
  
“All right. Okay. All, all right...”  
  
Once again, Daigorou started pacing, but this time with a kind of purpose.  
He folded his arms behind his back, took a bigger swagger with every step, as if to bolster himself for whatever it was he was about to ask.  
  
“My dad tells me a lot that, romance is about making choices. Like, all the time. And – I know there are things that, if I tried to compete on equal footing with, I just couldn't win against. In life and love and – and everything.”  
  
“Daigorou... Where are you going with this...”  
  
Her whisper felt like rain, and perhaps vanished amongst the detritus cast down the flooded hillside.  
Either way, he didn't respond.  
  
Something inside of her heart, stirred, beat like a drum.  
In her blood, she could feel –  
  
“Yuri. I can't – there's no way. If you had to choose between them or me, it's the one thing I know you'd choose, and I can't have that. So... I want you to prove it to me, okay. That we're gonna be together.”  
  
“ _What..._ What do you... What do you mean...”  
  
Trembling, she took a step back, nearly slipped in the slimy brown slurry.  
He advanced, with a frown that seemed as full of regret as it was anticipation.  
  
He held out his hand, down to her, as if to help her up –  
  
And seized the brown handle of her bookbag.  
  
_The violet light in her eyes widened, grew, dilated; she could hear her own breath before she was actually breathing.  
Howling, the wind clawed against her skin, but she didn't feel a thing.  
And he held the bag aloft, and her blood howled, too.  
  
_ “Don't, please don't...”  
  
“I'm not gonna, you have to. If I do it, it doesn't mean anything, Yuri. I'm just – asking you to prove this, to me. Just once. Maybe.”  
  
He hesitated at the last bit, and she knew there was no _maybe.  
  
_ And then he got a peculiar expression, that turned into a grin, that only widened.  
  
“What the hell am I saying... I've got these right here. I mean, I've kind of always wanted to do this. Maybe it'll finally get you to shut up about them, right – “  
  
“ _NO!”  
  
_ She howled again, and the wind howled with her, but Daigorou had made his decision.  
His fingers shuffled through her bookbag as easily as if he'd slit it open, pulling out the poems she'd written last night.  
  
Fine, those were trash, anyway, barely worth it – her shoulder shook as she watched them die, page by page, drifting away on the muck and swirling grime that devoured them.  
But he hesitated at one, held it between his fingers.  
  
“... Was this – did you give this one to me? I think I remember reading it...”  
  
He glanced towards her, and glanced away.  
She knew why, of course.  
  
It made sense not to look at your ugly, grotesque girlfriend when she was crying, trembling, snot dripping down her nose; if all she was good for was only the one thing, and she, and this...  
  
The poem drifted downwards upon the muck, and she wondered how long it would take her to drift along out with it, perhaps to die.  
  
But there were no poems left, anymore.  
  
At first, he raised one of her schoolbooks from the bag, and for a brief minute she wondered if he might at least spare them.  
It had been a foolish hope, hadn't it?  
  
“Daigorou, please! Please, I'm begging you, please stop, I'll do anything..!”  
  
Yuri took a step forward, but it had already begun. Daigorou walked backwards, leg over leg, his signature style and his signature smile.  
  
“We both know I can't now, Yuri. If I did, then this would've all been pointless, so... I'm going to go in, get the rest of it over with. Once we're done with this, you won't have to worry about the rest of it.”  
  
She fumbled forward, slipped over her boots, right into the mud. It struck her face, splattering and discolouring her pale skin with spatters of greyish-brown, like the colour of paint that had been mixed too thoroughly.  
Daigorou was breathing heavily, too – maybe feeling unnerved by what he'd done, or by the way she kept slamming her fists further into the mud, each time more powerlessly than the last.  
  
But...  
  
He was right, after all.  
  
“So... Kavan, uhmn, I don't know that. Is that a real name?”  
  
Yuri mumbled something in reply, wasn't even sure if it was words, when it might as well have just been a guttural noise.  
  
“... All right. Here we go.”  
  
_First, his fingers trembled – like he was almost unwilling to take the final step.  
But then, the slim volume fell from his hands and buried itself in the mud.  
And then another, and then another; finally, he simply poured the few remaining books from the overturned brown bag, until there was simply nothing left.  
  
_ Silence reigned, between the two of them.  
  
Fingers twitching, Daigorou let the bag flutter to his side.  
His shoulders slumped, and he wiped a mixture of sweat and rainwater from his eyes.  
  
“Yuri...”  
  
_He didn't even know what to say, after all that.  
The distant thunder roared again, and she slid uneasily from where she'd been laying in the mud – howling until the sound died out completely, long hair behind her.  
Like an animal.  
  
It was amazing how quickly he fell to the ground, amazing how much taller she was than he, amazing how much weaker he'd actually been the whole time.  
Her eyes felt like they were moving at a terrible speed, taking in the prone man, underneath her.  
  
_“A... Ah...”  
  
_She couldn't believe it.  
Was it possible that **love** had been hiding from her, like this, the entire time?  
Rainwater slacked across her back; she could feel it through the sundress she'd wore, waterlogged and ruined.  
  
They could both be ruined, then.  
  
Actually, maybe, just...  
  
_ “Yuri, please – no...”  
  
_Hesitation paused her hand for a moment as she held his chest down.  
Of course, she always carried the knife strapped to her thigh; both mother and granpda had always reminded her to do so, when out in the country.  
  
It was so beautiful, so silvery. Like a mirror.  
And – she saw her hideous reflection in the mirror, and painted it with her breath, and lowered it to his shirt...  
  
_ “Oh, oh, no, nono, no...”  
  
“Gorou...”  
  
_Amazingly, he seemed to be shocked at how intimate her whisper was.  
But she'd finally found a way to love him, a way that repaid his love.  
It'd been staring at her this entire time, and she'd just been so blinded as to not see it.  
  
The knife sank a little lower.  
More force, and something red bubbled out.  
Not as much as you'd expect, which was only natural.  
  
That's why she didn't like most media; it exaggerated things so... Terribly –  
  
_ “Please, Yuri...”  
  
_He kept repeating a name, but she was just an animal, anyway.  
Animals didn't have names, didn't need names.  
And this – if she was going to..._

 _Going...  
Going to...  
  
_ Her eyes flashed open as she realised what she'd been so close to doing.  
With a start, she pulled the knife free – _hating how beautiful it looked, drenched in his red colour_ – and cleaned it against her sundress, before sliding it back into the holster.  
  
Rain fell down against them both.  
She cradled him close to her, helped him to his feet, and ripped her sundress to make something akin to a bandage.  
  
The wound was superficial, probably.  
  
And the two of them left the hilltop in silence, after having finally completed their ascent to the summit.  
An older man gave them a ride back to town, to the hospital itself, without asking any questions – because that, too, was life in the country.  
  
She knew she'd finally done it, that everything was going to collapse and, from that point on, the illusion of a thing she'd called a life would consume itself.  
  
The second to last time she saw the man named Gorou, was behind the counter.  
He looked back at her, and whether his eyes held hatred or pity or fear, she could not say.  
Maybe they held nothing at all; maybe they never had.  
  
But she stared at his form in retreat, and could find nothing to say, or to feel.  
  
Her empty bookbag felt as hollow, against her back.  
  
It was truly ruined – everything.  
She'd ruined everything.  
Her disgusting touch had corrupted the last thing she'd held onto, and now even it wouldn't be near to her.  
Life was going to end, but at least – perhaps that'd be fine.  
  
… So it was to her horrified surprise when, after all of it had collapsed around her, _**life and the world proceeded as if nothing had ever happened.**_


	9. VII. The Tale of the Imperial Capital

Yuri had forced herself to school the next day, and the day after that.  
That day, Gorou had been present, and she'd felt as if something might happen; but he'd walked with a limp that she hadn't given him, and his face was raised and bruised besides.  
  
He hadn't even glanced her way, but outside of the beating he'd taken...  
  
Surrounded by his friends and acquaintances, he seemed absolutely fine.  
Normal.  
  
And she'd stood in the hallway, holding a paper note she'd got to explain and apologise for her lack of books, and it'd fallen from her hands and been stepped over by anxious students, eager to continue their studies – or bypass them.  
  
The world neither noticed, nor cared.  
  
It was the first time she'd deliberately left school on her own power.  
She hadn't bothered to explain why, hadn't bothered to humour the glances and giggles and rumours of the girls who were always clustered around the lockers like flies, but –  
  
Suddenly, and without warning, she simply left.  
  
Above her, the sky was as blue and freeing as it ever was, and ever would be.  
It shone down upon her magnificently, and she felt as if she might just lie down in a ditch, in front of it, until finally she burned away.  
  
But her steps were no longer hers to control; she had ceded them to a stranger in her own body, a stranger who was more comfortable with who she was and who she had become than she was, herself.  
The stranger walked past the other residential area, passed by the old collapsed homestead that had belonged to an old man a girl had known, into the woodlands, where sound was devoured.  
  
She moved so awkwardly now.  
Was it her fate to become so weak, so useless?  
  
… Even though their immortal shells had been destroyed, they were still with her, of course. Her cherished phantasms.  
  
Breathing heavily, Yuri navigated through the underbrush, uncertain of what she was looking for – or if she was looking for something, at all.  
  
It didn't really matter.  
  
Perhaps the self she had known in her past would've decried fatalism in all forms, or come up with a witty, precocious...  
  
She stopped, to sneer at herself, and snarled and just _hated._  
She couldn't _not_ hate.  
  
… That person would've found a reason to be optimistic.  
But it was clear that there was no good to be found in the world.  
Mersault, in spite of all of it, had been right.  
He'd been right about everything.  
  
Fallen leaves knocked free by the wind greeted her collapse, and she nestled amongst them like a blanket.  
Her arms fell to the mud and slurry at her side, now slightly dried from the passage of time, and...  
  
Glassy-eyed but smiling, she cupped handfuls of dirt and let them fall against her skin.  
  
Staining the ugly uniform this place insisted upon, like the youth would resort to some animalistic proto-society if it had been removed.  
Actually, there was no reason to keep it on, so she removed it as well.  
  
Because people were animals, basically.  
That had to be it – the great truth of society.  
Or – worse than that.  
  
They had feelings like animals, of course, but they suppressed them.  
And the potential to know, to care, to learn, like humans, but...  
  
_Were those things anathema to people...  
  
_ Dark muck against her neck, spattered against her waist, and over her open eyes.  
It was probably a bit dangerous, but at the moment, it just – felt right.  
  
She lay there, staring up into the sky and thinking, until it felt like the sun might actually bake her away, leave her imprint against the forest floor.  
But...  
  
… With a sigh, she forced herself up, slicked back the dirt from her hair and her eyes.  
There was no rest, here.  
  
Her trudging journey back home coincided with the buses, and the bustle of people.  
Thankfully, the Yamamura family no longer pestered her, at least not openly.  
Certainly, they'd probably call her parents, or – or something, but her family had no power, here.  
  
In the end, that was all that mattered.  
  
**Power.  
  
** As the door opened, she beheld the house in front of her.  
  
_Home.  
  
_ Yuri's house was the emptiest and most unloved place she'd seen, and she'd never thought of it like that before; but it had been, the entire time.  
She only ever ate instant food, never cooked well, hadn't learned to. There was dust, dust everywhere, and the scent of – something, foul, she couldn't place.  
  
_Perfect, really.  
  
_ Taking the landline in delicate fingers – and when had they become so delicate, so useless? – she called the school, and received no reply.  
Of course, the administration had likely already left – and she didn't truly want to burden them.  
  
Out of habit, perhaps, she called her father, called her mother.  
  
Left messages explaining things, apologising.  
Not everything, not even close to everything – just that she would be taking some time off from school (was that even allowed? could it be done?) and that everything would be fine in a bit of time.  
  
Since they were messages, she had to wonder if her parents, the individuals who were her mother and father – if they'd even get them, or care to get them.  
It didn't matter – this was her duty, as their daughter.  
Nothing more.  
  
And with that, it was if a tremendous burden had suddenly freed itself from her shoulders, and Yuri smiled.  
  
The shelves around her loomed down, the only thing in this town taller than she was; or the only things that _felt_ tall, and she wondered if anyone else noticed the difference?  
Paperbacks and hardbacks and magazines leered back at her crooked smile, and she let her fingers coax a spine free of one of the shelves.  
  
Written by some famous mathemetician, it seemed an auspcious place to start as any, and she took it to her bed.  
  
Perhaps the lilac paint had faded, somewhat, or perhaps it had always been so dark; but the atmosphere of the room had changed, and she was surprised to find she liked it.  
Now that she thought about it, her room was something of a lair, really...  
  
A lair for a **monster,** like her.  
  
She was just as ferocious as any of them, but less deadly on the surface.  
Just as cartoonish and ill-motivated and pointlessly evil, without any of the clever quips or comebacks.  
But if she were in the place of any masked man wielding a ridiculous weapon...  
  
Her breathing surprised her – how ragged it had grown.  
  
Of course, she'd make the same decisions.  
  
Pale fingers straightened back a yellowed page, and she was surprised at how quickly she read the story; the sequel she preferred, despite having the intense feeling that she'd read it before, and perhaps not cared for it?  
  
Like everything else, her mind had rotted with age.  
She read, and read, and read late into the night, letting the books fall from her hands when she was tired, and coat the floor with bent spines and splayed pages, and none of them satisfied her.  
  
They were all wonderful, but they were friends – and nothing more.  
  
Yuri curled up into herself on her bed, and stared at the clock, facing her.  
  
Some...  
  
Awful, childish – dunce of a cartoon character, that only an idiot brat would find cute, was staring back at her.  
Maybe it was the fellow who sacrificed himself so that other pointlessly cutesy wretches could have something to eat?  
  
It was the element of self-sacrifice that riled her hatred back up, more than even the childishness of it, the innocent stupidity of youth.  
Why were children taught to give themselves away?  
What _virtue_ was there in letting yourself be eaten?  
  
She didn't do anything – foolish, like throw the clock from her shelf.  
She had already done far, far too many pointlessly foolish things, after all.  
  
But she lay there in her sweat and anger and hatred, and she could feel it consuming her by the minute, as she deserved. It felt – peculiar, to be so awake three in the morning, but amazingly liberating.  
  
Miserable, as well.  
But she'd felt miserable for awhile, now.  
  
The clock ticked on, and she forced herself to watch the second-hand until finally, at long last, dreams claimed her.  
  
…  
  
**AND HER DREAMS WELCOMED HER.  
  
**_She awoke in a maze of twisting passages, all alike.  
That struck her as similar to something her father had shared with her, very long ago. He'd felt that interactive fiction would be very important, and that people would learn to love stories, for a new age.  
  
_ … _Even though she still loved her father, very much, she decided she hated him for his hope.  
  
The passageways were covered in thick stone, black stone – basalt, or something like it.  
Even in dreams, she knew that she didn't know enough to be certain of it, but...  
It was what she thought basalt should look like, dark pillars rising up out of the unwelcoming earth.  
  
Wandering down a passageway, at random, Yuri placed her pale fingers to the wall, clutching at sections until they tore at her hands, leaving silvery strands of dreamflesh trailing behind her like a vermicilli of skin.  
  
Ahead of her lay a great altar, and upon it lay a girl she recognized.  
  
_ “ _Yuri...”  
  
Asked the girl with the short dark hair, almost violet, absolutely violet – with matching eyes, with a partial tan, who loved books, who loved people, who loved her family, who loved life.  
  
"... What are you going to do to me?”  
  
She thought about it, for a long time; and time was no obstacle, in dreams.  
She was thankful for that, even as a filtering blue light made her wonder if the sun had risen, in the real world, and she was still – clinging to sleep, somehow.  
  
Exhaustion, probably.  
  
Herself, staring at her – and she'd always had that image of herself, inside – was a terribly strange sensation.  
Now, she finally knew she wasn't – would never be that girl again.  
But, at the same time, she couldn't...  
  
Couldn't pretend that the girl bound to the altar in red rope wasn't her, wouldn't always be her, to some extent, unless – unless...  
  
At the altar's right side were a heavy knife, carved of the same black stone, and a stone vessel, with dark red stains, laying near it; and though the vessel was empty, its intended purpose was obvious.  
  
To the left was a tiny model of a door.  
She flicked it open with her fingers, and saw a mess of stars and starlight beyond – perhaps there was something she could eat to 'shrink' down and enter, but...  
  
Yuri knew she'd never been that creative, at the end of the day.  
No solutions to escape, or let the girl she'd been escape, came to her.  
  
Which meant there was only one real option, facing her.  
  
Hefting the knife, she felt a little disappointed; it didn't feel like a real knife, had no lightness to it, no kinetic energy.  
  
But even as dark as it was, she could the intake of breath reflected from the imprisoned girl as Yuri stood – perhaps loomed – over her.  
  
_ “ _... I'm sorry.”  
  
Yuri whispered to herself, and the terrified look of the chained girl changed to one of horror as Yuri brought the knife into her own flesh.  
And again, and again –  
  
Because it was only a dream.  
  
More silvery strands fluttered out from behind her, painting the entire chamber and its walls a sickly grey.  
  
The reflection of herself screamed, begging her to stop, with tears in her eyes, with that hateful thing called hope, in her eyes, but it had to be done.  
It was a dream, so Yuri felt no pain, even as her legs gave out on her, even as she collapsed to the ground, and even as her throat seized up.  
  
With the last of her strength, she cut the ropes binding the girl, and managed a hoarse laugh as the door to her left slowly, inexorably widened – to just the point that a younger girl might be able to crawl through it.  
  
_ “ _It's fine. Like this – somewhere... You can live.”  
  
_**She awoke, to the sound of rain.  
  
** Midday had come, unannounced.  
Her stomach rumbled, but she didn't feel especially hungry.  
No. She didn't feel much of anything, anymore.  
  
And that was perfect; she'd won.  
  
… No, that wasn't entirely true.  
An anger at her dream abandoning her, shaking her from sleep before she'd known if the girl she'd been had made it out, if she'd been happy, or sad, or scared –  
  
She still felt _anger,_ and that was something.  
  
Downstairs, the dust seemed to have multiplied in the night, but there was still plenty of food in the cupboards, and it wasn't as if there wasn't a convenience store down the road.  
If she'd been more of a rebel, she might have bought things until her parents had no choice but to abandon their duties, and return, but –  
  
– She'd made peace with that, too.  
  
Without desire, she had no need to lash out them, for in the end, they were simply doing what they thought was best, or what had to be done.  
Maybe raising a child was like raising a pet, and when you got bored of it, or couldn't manage it...  
  
Quietly, Yuri resolved to never have a pet, and strangled the image of cats before they could return to her.  
  
That meant that she could indulge her interests, as much as she liked.  
  
But – what _were_ her interests, really?  
  
From half-shuttered eyes, she glanced at the oft-unused television set.  
…  
  
She was surprised how well the movie with the bizarre infective fungus held up.  
Even though the effects were terribly dated, the atmosphere – ambience, she decided, she liked the sound of it – were truly impressive.  
  
Not impressive like the way that other film director and his FX specialist had manage to create the illusion of exploding gore, in that series from across the sea.  
  
The story here was subdued and strangling. Strangling – she liked the sound of that word, too.  
Perhaps – she could start keeping a list of them, the words she liked. For – no.  
She wasn't going to write again.  
  
_Ever.  
  
_ But...  
Keeping a list, perhaps...  
  
One movie faded into the next.  
She laughed – humourlessly – at the infiltrating monsters that needed glasses to be seen, the ridiculous surreal violence and sexuality of the movie where everything grew consumed by metal.  
  
Yet even laughter eventually grew to be too much, as she felt like she might melt into the floor, where she knelt, and simply – cease to be.  
  
She just watched, thoughtlessly, movie after movie, time after time.  
Midday faded into night. She didn't feel like sleeping, so she didn't.  
And she didn't feel like eating, so she didn't.  
  
Hazy filtering light from the television infiltrated her consciousness, and she let it build a nest there out of whatever was left.  
But, even as she let herself be consumed by it, there was a tiny, angry voice, yelling at her – and telling her that no matter how she felt in the moment, this could not be all there was.  
  
That just as there had been a door, there was still a door.  
She just wasn't looking for it.  
  
If it had been possible to strangle, or eviscerate, or torture that voice into silence, she would've done it gladly; and already Yuri regretted letting whatever stupid part of her continued to bleat like that free.  
  
But just as she was stubborn, even now, her subconsciousness was stubborn too, and refused to stop shouting and making sound and yelling at her, pleading with her, begging her to listen.  
Even as she went into the kitchen to fetch indeterminable meals that faded into one another, as her hair grew matted and longer by the minute, dirtied and covered with dust – as she wandered around the house, and wondered if she might be turning into dust, too.  
  
So too did the voice refuse to give up, even until the end.  
  
_It just took her a year and a season to find the solution._


	10. X. Alas, Babylon

Everything had faded, including the little voice that she'd grown used to challenging her, attempting to draw her out of the same patterns she cherished, or stir her in a direction other than a beeline from the convenience store to the safe prison of home.  
  
Her eyes had faded; she didn't need to see clearly, and perhaps the circles under her eyes and the distant look were 'cute.'  
Her sense of time, too; day or night, it didn't really matter.  
Even the cold air seemed warmer, to the point where she couldn't tell if it was warm or cool, or if it even mattered.  
  
But that wasn't the turning point.  
  
The turning point was when she'd received a letter, shoved under the door.  
The mailbox outside she avoided until she had no other choice, and forward the important ones to her parents, but –  
  
It was that particular day that a letter had found itself into her life, without warning or explanation.  
  
She'd opened it, fingers trembling.  
  
_I miss the soft depth of your smile_  
meandering across that white valley  
which is your face  
  
but your distance is a garden  
that grows between us  
and the dandelions and blisters and wait  
condemn my heart  
  
for to love you is to wait  
knowing nothing is certain  
  
lost in prayer  
  
for what might be  
  
if we went wrong in that death called night  
  
then burn me with your touch  
  
and let me yield to you  
  
in silence.  
  
…  
  
But, of course, the letter hadn't actually been to her.  
The photo fallen inside was of a middle-aged couple; the woman older, and worn down by weight, yet still captivatingly implacable.  
  
And the man was not handsome or youthful, and he was not smiling.  
Yet his eyes burned, and seemed to stare beyond the picture – as if risking a glance to the woman whose hand touched his shoulder might kill him, suddenly.  
  
… Carefully, she replaced the photo, the poem, the letter.  
  
And she'd wanted very much to rip it to pieces, but...  
  
The journey to the mailbox was rote, as was everything these days.  
Yamamura Sr. knew enough to not talk to her directly anymore, but he always tried – with a tip of his golfers' cap and a little smile, as if she cared, as if she wanted to be spoken to, by anyone –  
  
But she had, of course.  
  
She'd wretchedly hoped, that...  
  
Cleaning the box was easy.  
There was plenty to send out.  
And she could only guess that the original owner had been the intended party, but she listed their new address, and prayed, fervently, that if a god had been listening, they would intervene.  
  
Exhausted, she returned home and locked, then chained, the door.  
  
It was undeniable. In the moment she'd been happy.  
That had been – pleasant, if a mistake.  
  
Yet, she had been mistaken; mistaken to assume there was even the possibility of the message being for her.  
By doing so, she'd let the possibility of hope back into her life, and with that, something else had come creeping in.  
  
The feeling was new; somewhere between happiness and hatred, self-loathing and anger.  
No longer was there any room for sadness, but she could hear the beating of her heart – and it rang as loud and clear as a bell.  
  
Not even the comforting and familiar weight of her bed could still the ringing, and not even the enclosing safety of walls could stifle the pain in her temple.  
  
… Was there any point, at all, then?  
  
“You... You already know the answer to that, don't you...”  
  
She whispered to the cold air, and it filled her lungs with courage.  
Ah, then in that case – there was one thing that might be able to help, wasn't there.  
  
The collection of knives she cherished had long since been neglected.  
Most were little more than fineries, since she simply liked their appearance; some unpractical, with an edge that had long since worn down to nothing.  
  
One, of course, was a hunting knife, and she'd kept the edge well-honed.  
  
Was she a deer, then, or a cat, or something else entirely..?  
  
How heavy the haft felt in her shaking hands; as if it were a beating organ, itself.  
The possibility that she would fail was quite good; she would have to be thorough, deep, and not miss her mark.  
  
It was impossible in the world to know love, and to be loved.  
Perhaps – if there was another, then...  
  
_Delerium; something precious and beautiful._  
The open sky, on an unclouded field – a mess of words thrown together, composing a thing called poetry.  
Red poetry, painted with something more like a muddied brown.  
  
Now the thoughts couldn't leave her, and how beautiful was the blade she'd have to dirty to reach this new path.  
  
_Should she regret,_ Yuri wondered, and realised she didn't at all.  
Neither did she feel sad, or – or anything at all, really.  
It was simply that she'd reached the end of a journey, cooped up here.  
There was no other path, but this one.  
None.  
So...  
  
Without hesitation, she drove the blade into her shoulder – wincing, for though she had not hesitated, she had not meant to hit something so useless, and...  
  
_Around her, the fading ceased._  
The pain in her head – lessened.  
  
It was as if a fog was being dispelled by something, a light, a holy and righteous light –  
  
Staring at the dark fluid dripping from the blade of the knife, and at the own shallow wound she'd given herself, Yuri hesitantly pressed two fingers to the cut, not wincing as she moved them around it as if it were an old friend.  
  
Her eyes widened.  
The last of the fog faded.  
  
“... I...”  
  
Though unable to speak, she remembered the pattern.  
Clean the blade, dress and wash the wound.  
Infection would be a problem, after all.  
  
She couldn't afford that –  
  
Since, after everything else, clear as the blade of a knife –  
  
Yuri had decided she wanted to live.


	11. XI. Speak, Memory

“It's – this is all highly irregular, of course...”  
  
The strangest thing was it was all so much easier than she'd expected.   
Gorou was gone – perhaps he'd graduated already.   
And when she entered the administration office, and explained her situation – everything went all too easily.  
  
As if it had always been intended for her to return; as if the world, uncaring, continued.  
… But she didn't mind that, anymore.  
  
“C, certainly. I also have – some disappointing grades. Due... Due to missed attendance and things such as that. Various home and hospital issues r, required my attention.”  
  
One of the figures, wrinkled and lined with livermarks, rubbed at his non-descript face.   
But the prevailing culture was that if you owned up to your mistakes and truly apologised, it was all fine – right...  
  
Her head nearly touched the floor, her bow was so stiff.  
  
“I'm... _Truly, I'm sorry!.._ ”  
  
After a round of nervous coughs, papers were signed, and it was as if she'd never left at all – almost.  
  
Nervous rumours and glances followed her wherever she went, as if she were some sort of enigmatic character from one of her favourite novels; a lady of espianoge or leisure, perhaps both, with a past as mysterious as her – her appearance..?  
  
“Who is that? I don't think I've ever seen her, here...”  
  
One of the underclassmen whispered to a friend as Yuri passed them by, and she couldn't help listening in, even though she didn't want to –  
  
No, that was a _lie._   
Maybe she wanted to listen, just a little.  
  
“I think she went here for a bit, then transferred out? I mean, I don't know all the details, of course, but... She looks so elegant and mature? Is there a really a high-schooler like that at our school? I just...”  
  
… She'd _won.  
  
_ Without thinking, without trying, she'd somehow won an entirely new lease on life.   
And it were the three friends, under her sleeve, strapped to her thigh, in the weight of her boot, who had given it, given them to her.  
  
Yuri inhaled, and exhaled.  
Her gentle smile as she passed them by only sent the girls into more feverish rumours, and her spine shivered.  
What, what was this feeling...  
  
“Ohmig – _Yuri!_ ”  
  
A vaguely familiar voice called out to her, and Nanami – that was her name, wasn't it? – ran up to her, hair somewhat unrecognisable. It'd been bleached to the point of almost being white – it suited her nicely, Yuri decided.  
Nanami sniffed, and – hugged her, tightly?..  
  
“You've got no idea how worried we all were for you, all of us girls. And y'know, I – I'm really sorry about it all, I never meant to _cheat_ with somebody, I mean...”  
  
It seemed false, but she didn't really care. She didn't care about anything.   
This was _exhilerating!  
_ She had found invincibility, immortality – it felt as if her eyes were open, for the first time in ages..!  
  
Patting Nanami softly on the back – and surprised at the ease with which she did so...  
  
“Th, that's all... The past. Thank you for worrying for me. We don't have – much in common, but... I'm glad! I'm truly glad!”  
  
… similarly, she'd finally learned it.   
The game he'd written of, or perhaps something like it.   
She didn't know; she didn't care!  
  
“Oh, great, that's – great! Listen, I'm almost graduating, so – you wanna go karoake with me and a few of the girls?”  
  
“I wouldn't mind that, at all...”  
  
Nanami had conveniently dodged around the fact that she'd essentially lost two years of her time at school; people might gossip, but there wasn't a person who spoke directly, in the world – and she had learned the secrets of camoflauge and armour.  
  
Class came and went, and she surprised herself with how difficult all the material seemed; her grades wouldn't be fixing themselves.   
Fine – that was, that was fine.   
She had bought her own pity dearly enough.  
  
 _Only discipline would fix this._  
  
But as to the night itself – it wasn't something she'd repeat, of course, but it was...   
  
Rather fun.   
Almost enjoyable, if she could find a term for it.  
  
None of the girls were the sort of people she'd enjoy talking to, though the shy-seeming girl with the bright eyes was – incredibly cute, her mind decided than quickly redacted.   
Nobody seemed to know who'd invited her, but...  
  
What a lovely singing voice she had.  
  
That night, she cleaned some of the dust from the floor, though only a little – and then she let her clothes fall to the ground and took a long, appraising glance at herself, in the mirror.  
  
Yes, it was true –  
  
It seemed that the girl she let disappear into the night was gone, forever.   
She would never return, but she was free; in a world beyond Yuri's reach, beyond the person she had become.  
  
But, the young woman staring back at her...  
  
She no longer hated, either, though she could not love her.   
There was so much there that needed to be fixed, and she would need courage to reach the place where she could.  
But courage was the one thing she'd always had, hadn't she...  
  
Warm water cascaded along her shoulders, and she lost herself to the feeling of it, and the scent of steam.  
  
That night, after she carved the second, exploratory marks against her wrists – to test her limits, and to practise her technique, she called her mother.   
Her father, too, but her mother first.  
  
She'd said such – callous things, at odds with the familial devotion a daughter was expected to have.   
That had to be fixed, too.  
  
Perhaps her mother wouldn't listen to the message; perhaps she never did.   
But it was a step.  
  
And before she knew it, she'd broken into a _run.  
_ Days flowed together like running water, or wine; one after the other, streaming into consciousness and replacing the memories she'd held of the past.  
  
Nanami's graduation, even though they'd hardly been friends, or even acquaintances; her own first passing marks after a long absence.   
The realisation that the campus library wasn't entirely worthless, and that she'd let it linger unattended.  
  
New marks, pale but less so than the rest of her – hidden by long skirts and uniform sweaters and careful caution.   
  
Little things that only she knew about, her beloved friends, her protectors, her guardians.  
  
The heady rush of lying back and the catharsis of straddling that line – and how it seemed to be the only thing that prevented her head from aching, some days...  
… Not that she minded the headaches, so much, anymore.  
  
It was a winter, a Sunday, when she'd re-traced her steps to that noodle stall she'd visited so very long ago, with a boy, once before.  
The memory no longer bothered her; nothing did.   
Or, perhaps – not quite...  
  
A small girl, whom she'd at first mistaken for a child, was loitering in front of the stall with an incredibly sour look on her face.   
It was an expression that had all the bitterness of a spring storm with twice the charm – like her rosy hair, it was...  
  
…  
  
“Excuse me, have we met?”  
  
“Oh, piss – “  
  
Their eyes locked, and the pink-haired girl's lips half-parted in surprise and confusion.   
Half-memory mixed with uncertainty, and then...   
A tiny, forceful, smirk.  
  
“You... You're that idiot who didn't even know about Ranmaru, right? How could I forget my arch-enemy like that?!”  
  
“A, arch-enemy!? You... You little... Shit...”  
  
“Little shit, huh? Do you often just roam around town, picking fights with girls? No, wait, lemme guess. You're just angry you got held back 'cause of your being ill or whatever, right? No, no. It's okay. I'm here for you.”  
  
 _“OoOoOOOooOo - “  
  
_ Stamping her foot against the ground, Yuri knelt down at the same time the – _the little shit_ – reached down.  
Two hands, a small distance apart, grabbed for snow.   
And if there could be such a thing as a cross-counter in a snowball fight...  
  
What a miracle it was, indeed.  
  
Yuri wiped the snow from her face with all the elegance she could muster, even though the stains of snow and dirt probably detracted from that a little.  
Despite it all – was she smiling, had she smiled..?  
  
The little girl – a young woman herself, it seemed – easily dusted the snow off of her shoulders as if this happened all the time, and gave an equally small shrug.  
  
“I'm pretty sure I told you before, but the name's Natsuki! Remember it!”  
  
“What are you, a, a child...”  
  
“Damnit, I'm not a child!”  
  
“Could've... Fooled me. What sort of... Childish brat... Just starts a snowball fight in public? In this, in this day and age – “  
  
“ – You, you, you youyouyou..! You PHYSICALLY started it!? What is your problem, you crazy giant?!”  
  
And suddenly, even though they'd leaned so close – Yuri _towering_ over Natsuki – that she could see the jagged edge of one of Natsuki's teeth as the smaller woman grimaced...  
They were both laughing.  
  
“Crazy giant... I think I understand, now. You can't... Win in any field, so you resort to mocking... Things you cannot possess. I suppose that makes you... Hideyoshi, in this scenario...”  
  
“Why the hell do you keep on returning to the warring states, you, uuuurgh...”  
  
A pained growl echoed from Natsuki's stomach, and she tried to hide it (poorly); her grumbling only serving to highlight the continuing noise.  
… Snow began to fall around them, and Yuri frowned, adjusting her scarf.  
  
“So – why are you, why are you here... Natsuki..?”  
  
“What the hell, why do you think I'm here?! I'm window-shopping for scents, like anyone might do! So just back off and let me inhale that delicious noodle-scent, you dope!”  
  
“... Oh, well... I just – was thinking of getting some noodles, so... Why not join me? I'll treat you. To make up for that – snowball assault, earlier.”  
  
Yuri added the latter quickly, as Natsuki's lips formed some kind of protest.   
But it was a fair offer, wasn't it?   
They'd had a little fight, and it wasn't as if Yuri was hurting for money, herself, so...  
  
“ _Fine._ I hope you realise that I don't hold back, though. So – don't hate me for ordering whatever!”  
  
“It would've been... Cuter, if you'd said... Odening, whatever...”  
  
“Ugh, why the hell am I subjecting myself to your company...”  
  
But the atmosphere had become surprisingly – familiar.   
As if they'd always meant to meet, as if they'd always meant to be friends.   
Had she ever truly had a girl... Friend? She had distant memories of childhood friends in the city, and yet they were so vague –  
  
Snowfall behind them cast tracks of lingering white, as the increasingly aged and slightly suspicious-seeming noodleman... Noodlier?  
  
Yuri grimaced, knowing that there had to be a word for the profession –  
  
The shopkeeper brought them two steaming bowls of noodles. Buckwheat soba for herself, and...   
Quite a bit of everything, for Natsuki.  
  
 _Good.  
  
_ “Don't fucking slurp your noodles, okay. That's gross and only gross people do it. It's a stupid cultural tradition that doesn't make any sense.”  
  
“... I actually agree. A refined lady should be seen, not heard.”  
  
“What the hell?! That's even worse!”  
  
But – but Yuri was surprised to find she was _joking_ too, as if she weren't... Herself.  
No, this – this was part of her, too. Always had been. And she was – she was incredibly...  
  
“Anyway, I mean – oh, wow, that's amazing, they really do a good job with the broth, here... Uh, anyway, I mean that any lady who won't be heard'll get trampled on. Even giants like you, so, don't be afraid to raise your voice from time to time.”  
  
“I'll do it all the time I like, actually. Did I ever say... I was a refined lady?”  
  
“Oh, haha, nice. But, see, I _am_ a refined lady, so you better believe what I have to say. Don't worry! I'll take you under my wing, make you a real elegant dame!”  
  
Puffing up her – slight, slightly sunken – chest, Natsuki clapped Yuri on the shoulder, and had to reach up a bit to do so.  
… Yuri frowned again, and it wasn't at the fact that her new companion...  
  
That her new _friend_ was short.  
  
“I'll... Consider that. Oh, uhmn... Hah!”  
  
With surprising speed, she lashed out and wound some noodles that ended up disappearing into her lips (with a loud slurp, of course); Natsuki growled, and flicked her spoon against Yuri's wrist.  
This, was...  
  
“... Weird. Do you ever feel like you've met someone before you've met someone?”  
  
“I – you know, we _did_ meet, Natsuki...”  
  
“Yeah, but, not like we really talked, or anything. I'm just saying, you're infuriating, but the kind of familiar infuriating like the cool guy's less cool rival in an action manga.”  
  
“... _Ugh,_ manga...”  
  
“Oh, let me guess! You don't like manga 'cause it fills the pathetic void in your ginormous chest where a heart should be? Right? Right!”  
  
“G, g, ginormous...”  
  
So, it was still possible for her to feel _some_ embarrassment.  
That was good to know, even if she wasn't entirely sure she was _comfortable_ with that, just yet. No – she knew she wasn't.   
But she played it off well...  
  
And to her surprise, Natsuki noticed, and adeptly moved on, herself.  
  
“Yeah, but I mean – it's manga. Isn't stuff like that, escapism, I mean, kind of nice? I like it, because anything can happen. It doesn't matter if you're poor, or unlucky, or whatever. Magic, insane tennis skills, even true love!”  
  
Her smile was forceful and bright, like a tiny radiator.  
Yuri decided, in that moment, that she cherished it.  
  
“I – I actually hate escapism. You see, uhmn... If you're imprinting yourself onto a person, or place... You're destroying yourself, in a way, and doing disservice to the character, and to the writer.”  
  
“Uh, who said anything about escapism? I just like manga 'cause the plotlines are good. Escapism isn't healthy, sure, but I'd rather be an escapist then a snob!”  
  
Natsuki had that very slight accent that people who'd grown up in the town often had, mixed with the certainty with which she spoke. Both were adorable, but Yuri felt there was more to it than just being _cute.  
  
_ She had a warm courage to her, like someone who pressed onwards, even when there wasn't any noodlestall to dispense good food in the midst of a snowstorm; or someone, who...  
  
“Being a snob... An aesthete isn't awful. You develop a fine sense of taste, which is good when you're – trying to judge situations, people... In the real world.”  
  
“Okay, fine. Yeah, I can see that. But, the thing is, what the hell is the real world? Adults always say that like it's some fancy-ass metaphor, and I guess you're one of those people who always tries too hard to be adult – “  
  
 _“ooOOOoOOOoooOOoo – “  
  
_ “Aha, called it. But, I mean! You can't just rely on a discerning eye to get by in life. A lot of people are good at faking being nice, you know? Friends... Family...”  
  
Silence, and Natsuki glanced cheerfully over her shoulder, at the clouds as grey as the edge of a treasured knife.   
Tiny droplets of snow, some having melted into an almost-rain, fell to the ground behind them.  
  
“If you trust your own perception too much, you might get lulled in by a real monster, right?”  
  
Yuri laughed, and Natsuki laughed, and their laughter might have startled the noodlier, who shook his head and retreated into the safety of the back of his stall.   
Watching him go, Yuri brushed her long hair from her shoulders, smiling smugly.  
  
“Monsters, hmrn... I'm not scared of them. The worst they can do is hurt you. And you see, I hurt back.”  
  
“Oh, real scary. That's the kind of cartoony bullshit a manga character'd – “  
  
“You admit it's bullshit, then? Aha, g – good! We're making progress!”  
  
“Watch your mouth, scarecrow. I'll clean it out with soap, and then my fist!”  
  
“Putting aside your... Your impotent, almost child-like threats of violence... I mean. Aha, uhmn... Don't you think it's interesting how many writers rely on the idea of permanence?”  
  
“What, where'd that come from – no, wait, I know what you mean. Like, aha! Something bad happens, and you're just supposed to lie down and accept it, right?”  
  
“Yes. Something like that. Like – you'll be broken, forever.”  
  
Two young women turned their backs to their still-steaming dinner, and the steam rose up behind them.   
Yuri could almost feel the heat against her shoulders, and it felt – incredibly relaxing.  
  
At her side, Natsuki was smiling.  
  
“Huh. Wouldn't have figured that you actually understood a little bit. Good to know it's not just all air, in there.”  
  
“You have no right to consider me... Foolish, when you just ate me out of house and home – “  
  
Natsuki's smile vanished.  
  
“Oh, oh crap – I'm so sorry, I mean – I _will_ make it up to you, I promise, I – “  
  
Without thinking, Yuri placed her hand against Natsuki's shoulder, and let it rest there.   
Her smile was soft, and gentle, and it surprised her to realise she meant it, utterly.  
  
“Apologies... That was a, a poor... A poor joke. I'm... My parents are a little wealthy, so...”  
  
Her pause felt like the dying breath of a star, about to explode in on itself.   
Her head ached, but it didn't bother her at all – not right now.  
  
“... If you, wanted to... To spend some more time together, occasionally, maybe...”  
  
“Wait, you're offering me free food and shitty philosophy? Ergh, I can't accept the former, but the latter... Well, I _guess,_ if I have to. I mean, you gotta catch up on your grades, right! Good thing I'm an amazing tutor!”  
  
“... I _refuse_ to accept that...”  
  
“Well, I am! Uh, not at everything, mind. But I like studying. It's fun, and it's a good excuse to get some time to myself. So... Yeah, how does that sound?”  
  
“Amazing.”  
  
Yuri replied, without missing a beat.   
The snow in front of them was a welcoming cold, as beautiful as the knives she'd stained earlier; and their kiss, the proof that she lived and could bleed, had allowed her this window.  
  
Inhale.   
  
Exhale.  
  
How clear and crisp and perfect the day was, and how highlighted it was against the calm grey sky.   
And if she could force herself to do this, then she could force herself to do it...   
The next day, too, and the day after that –  
  
“To be honest, I usually avoid going home until I absolutely have to. There's so much to do, I just kinda lose track of time, so... What do you say we try to do this, uh, every week? Does that work for you?”  
  
“... Just fine. I – If it's all right, though, my house – “  
  
“Oh, mine's a mess, too. So – both are off limits?”  
  
Just how was it that this young lady, who she hadn't seen in ages, totally understood her?   
No – that they understood one another?  
Yuri held her fingers to her temple as the headache subsided, and laughed again – just a little, almost silently.  
  
Then, she held out her pinky, and grinned.  
  
“It's a... Pinky promise!”  
  
“Don't patronise me!”  
  
Natsuki cursed, but their pinkies found each other, regardless.  
  
“Then – I suppose that's settled, then. Uhmn... I can't promise it'll always be that simple, of course. Sometimes I need some time to myself, and I get – moments where I just want to be alone...”  
  
“Of course, your 'elegant bitch' facade is probably a mask for the fact you bury yourself in otome VN and – “  
  
“... Otome... VN?”  
  
“Never you mind that. I'm terrified for your mental health, Yuri. Without a taste for the fine things in life, you're probably rotting away on your own, whispering – save me, Natsuki...”  
  
“I've... Never thought anything less, in my life... Stupid... Midget... Girl...”  
  
“Work on that. You can do better. Or are you afraid to get your hands dirty?”  
  
“Trust me, I'm just... Getting warmed up.”  
  
Her crooked smile only seemed to rile up Natsuki more, and before long, they were laughing – again! – and she wondered with how often they'd laughed, if it was all right, truly all right, or if there would be some kind of punishment for this happiness, one that she couldn't see or understand...  
  
“Fine. But I wanna see you swear more. I feel like you're hiding a lot from me. People who hide stuff – they're suspicious. I don't know, evil, maybe. I don't want to believe...”  
  
“O... Okay. I'll swear more... «Sonuvabitch...»”  
  
“Ppffft, what the hell was that! Don't tell me you speak some foreign language 'cause you're from over the seas, or something – “  
  
“No, actually. I read a lot though, and there was a story about this – detective, uhmn, who swears and drinks all the time...”  
  
“Sounds like a real _charmer._ ”  
  
“He was! Normally, I don't like characters who fall into their own vices, but – this one was quite different, so...”  
  
“Eh, I'll pass. Oh, but I guess if it wasn't entirely shitty, you could loan me the book sometime? In exchange, I'll lend you two hundred tankobon!”  
  
“... Two, two hundred...”  
  
“Okay, one tankobon. You sure drive a hard bargain.”  
  
 _“UuUUUuUUUuuuuuUUuuu – “_  
  
Natsuki's smirking enraged her, but also made her happy.   
Had she ever talked this candidly to – to anyone? And more to the point, had anyone talked so candidly...   
To her –  
  
“ – uhmn, Natsuki. This might sound like a weird question, but...”  
  
“You're a weird girl, Yuri. Ask, and I'll give you an answer, if I'm feeling charitable.”  
  
“... Fine. You don't... Think I talk too much? You don't think I've got too much enthusiasm, or that I'm – rambling, or – crazy, or... Hyst... Hysterical...”  
  
Silence reigned, and Yuri forced herself to look away; because she knew that if she looked at Natsuki's face, at her eyes, she might – cry, without thinking, truly cry, or the spell would be broken, and it would all be another red dream, or –  
  
“What the hell are you talking about? It really was all air up there. Tsch. I guess some stereotypes are true, it's too bad, I thought maybe you weren't all talk... Of course I don't think you talk too much. You barely say a word.”  
  
Yuri paused – in shock.  
  
But...   
Didn't she...   
Talk, all the time...  
  
“Ha, hahaha... Well, uhmn, I have to disappoint you a little, or you'd go home and feel terrible that you weren't me, so... I can be a bit of a space cadet, sometimes.”  
  
“You're telling me. But I'll tell you when you inevitably piss me off. Then I'll kick your ass!”  
  
“No. _I don't lose._ ”  
  
And they laughed, _again.  
  
_ Yuri's gaze turned from the snow to Natsuki; watching the way she stared intently at each seperate snowflake as it fell, as if trying to memorise their patterns and the trails they left behind them in the sky.  
Maybe she wanted to draw, as much as Yuri wanted to write; or perhaps she simply loved the snow, as well, or perhaps she needed no reason, because they were just enjoying this day.  
She hummed a fragment of a song she'd heard on the radio, so long ago, when her parents had brought her to this village, and Natsuki groaned, rolling her eyes.  
  
“Enka? Are you kidding me? Let me guess, besides that, you listen to classical – “  
  
“I also like punk music. And – noise. I like things that sound harsh. Oh, but you know, I can be terrifyingly scary, Natsuki...”  
  
“Bring it. The only thing that scares me about you is that you haven't finished your food. I'm gonna steal it!”  
  
“Please do, I eat like a bird!”  
  
“Well! I mean, if you insist! Thanks for the grub!”  
  
Natsuki's innocent and cheerful grin as she downed the last of Yuri's soba was – utterly charming, and there was only one more question Yuri realised she had to ask, that she truly wanted to ask.  
  
She asked it.   
And Natsuki slurped the last of the noodles, sat back in the uncomfortable stool, and said, with that same smile –  
  
“Well, obviously. We're _friends,_ after all!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a few more chapters, but I have to go - the editing is killing me, Ao3 eats through my cherished formatting like butter. Wah...  
> But please look forward to them later!


	12. XII. The Brothers Karamazov

Spring came, and with it Yuri found herself revitalised; she'd started to talk a little with the Yamamura family, when the mood took her.  
Not much, of course – they were too bright, and too cheerful, and she sometimes felt – angry, unrightfully, when she spoke with them.  
  
But that was something she'd overcome, just like she'd overcome the rest of it.  
  
Her hard work had already started to bear fruit, though her grades were a long way from being acceptable.  
Her father had called her, and she had missed it – but his happy, rambling message, so long that it was truncated and lost to the aether...  
  
It seemed like her parents still loved her, despite how disgusting and ugly she was.  
  
… Which meant that she still had worth.  
And she could cut out the ugliness she held; and her will was iron, too.  
  
“Oi, Yuri! You look dumb as hell today! Why do you wear such long clothes all the time? You really do look like a scarecrow!”  
  
“And you look like a garden gnome!”  
  
Natsuki grit her teeth and thrust her pointer-finger right into Yuri's stomach.  
  
“Garden gnome, huh?! Well at least I don't have circles under my eyes that look like somebody rubbed... Raccoon shit, under them...”  
  
“R... Raccoon... Raccoon shit...”  
  
She'd _lost_ this one, Yuri giggling somewhat manically as Natsuki stopped in the grasslands, her hands smartly against her hips.  
Natsuki was wearing a really cute outfit, a cute camisole, cute jeans – just, she was so adorable that it physically _hurt!_  
Oh, but since it really needled her to be called _cute..._  
  
“ Well, you look _cute as a button!_ ”  
  
“One of these days, I'm gonna punch you so hard that your neck will fly around and become a ghost demon head, or something. Uh, but that aside, where are we headed?”  
  
“I – I'm not very good at, going adventuring in the wilds...”  
  
“Yeah, I guessed. You don't look like the outdoorsy type.”  
  
For a minute, her eyes shut – they were friends, but she wasn't ready to share all her emotions, all her secrets.  
Perhaps she never would be...  
  
But then Yuri opened them, a sly grin on her lips.  
  
“Qu... Quite right. I get exhausted easily, and just – just look at me. Can you imagine a... Beanpole, like myself, getting lost in the forest? It'd be an excellent start to a horror novel, though...”  
  
“Brrrrr. You and your weird-ass horror. There's nothing cute about horror.”  
  
“So, you like cute things, but not when it's you? The cutest thing?”  
  
“I will destroy you.”  
  
“N, no. You won't. Sorry.”  
  
“ _URGH._ Well, but – horror is too much. And it's kind of pointless. Why should I care what happens to a bunch of assholes?”  
  
The ground around them was soft with fresh rain, and Yuri fought the desire to remove her boots, her socks, and just let her feet squelch amongst the soil, and let it seep into her skin.  
She'd worn a very conservative 'hiking' setup, as usual.  
  
A nice sweater, the kind she liked best, fluffy and obscuring.  
Nice sturdy hiking jeans, that didn't have any of those obnoxious holes that the youth today seemed to relish.  
Beloved, sturdy, and cherished old boots –  
  
“You have a very... Weak grasp of horror, Natsuki. I mean, it's not like you're familiar with it, but, a lot of horror doesn't rely on that particular setup.”  
  
“Such as? Even manga uses the same thing. And you can usually tell the good guys from the evil ones by how ugly they are. That's stupid.”  
  
Natsuki, on the other hand, scrabbled over rocks as easily as if she'd been born to.  
She wasn't exceptionally strong or fast, but it was clear she loved this – and though Yuri envied her, neither did she resent her.  
  
It felt – it felt amazing.  
  
“Oh, I don't... I don't disagree! It's just that... Hah... Whew, give me a moment.”  
  
“Sure. Do you want some water? I always store extra water bottles and fill them up, in case I find myself a long way from home and need a tasty drink of water!”  
  
“That's... Simultaneously impressive, and sad...”  
  
“What's that? 'I don't want water?' Gotcha.”  
  
“You... Nevermind. I'll get my revenge later.”  
  
“Oho, so you were the killer, the entire time? Tsch, that's boring. It's always the shy-seeming girls that end up being the murderer. It'd be more interesting if it was me, right? Except, aha, I hate gore, I couldn't stand seeing you hurt – “  
  
“Don't... Don't worry about things like that. If something ever happened to me, with my dying breath I'd whisper... Don't, don't look, Natsuki!”  
  
“Please. You'd whisper – 'where are all the boooooys' – as you lay dying.”  
  
“W, w, whatever gave that – “  
  
“I've been looking into a lot of the reading you lent me, and none of it is good. For someone who dislikes escapism, you're aware how much of this is the literary equivilent of some sort of unholy josei nightmare, right?”  
  
“... It isn't.”  
  
“Oh, sure, I get that a lot of the guys in the stuff you like are dreamy, but there's more to a guy than a pretty face and a brooding jawline.”  
  
“... Maybe you're misreading the books I like, Natsuki. What if instead, just – for the sake of argument, I was on the prowl for a cute girl...”  
  
“ _YOU._ PFFFT.”  
  
Natsuki looked as if she'd bust a gut laughing, and Yuri – Yuri pouted, lips pursed up in mock-anger.  
  
“Don't... Mock me, you... Trollop...”  
  
“Trollop, really?!”  
  
Her companion had climbed to the top of an exceptionally large, flat stone.  
From that vantage point, Natsuki glanced over at the horizon beyond them, and the hills beyond that.  
Wind buffeted the flat grasslands, and sent blades of grass dancing around Yuri's feet, as she struggled to keep up.  
  
Natsuki plopped down against the surface of the rock, and slipped two incredibly carefully-prepared sandwiches, wrapped in a thin layer of plastic, from her bookbag.  
  
Yuri caught sight of the interior contents; how pretty and varied they were, ranging from markers and pens to a few glassy marbles, a smooth stone, several notebooks – and one of the books she'd lent Natsuki...  
  
Then she caught the sandwich, as it was thrown quickly her way.  
  
“Nice catch. Guess you aren't completely useless!”  
  
With a bit of a struggle, Yuri pulled herself to the top of the stone, and sat next to Natsuki – the sandwich was even cuter (and more delicious-looking) after being freed from its plastic prison, with the snap of watercress being just perfect for a spring day.  
  
“Mmf. I, I mean... Thank you. I hope it wasn't too much trouble – “  
  
“Not for you. I take this sorta thing seriously, after all! It's my pride and joy!”  
  
With a broad grin, Natsuki thumped her hand against her chest, and Yuri smiled.  
  
“As... As you should. My own attempts are always a bit awful.”  
  
“You've mentioned, but, like... Wacky chef bad, or just kinda lackluster?”  
  
“Mostly the latter, sometimes the former. Mmn, I... I always try too hard. I hate not having control, so – but then, I sometimes get lost in thought, and – “  
  
“That's where you mess up, Yuri. Cooking is like art, if you're just gonna space out, you're gonna screw up. Also, how is it that you're so focused on trying that you manage to 'contemplate' right into ditziness...”  
  
“D... Ditziness, I...”  
  
But Yuri laughed, and took another bite of the sandwich.  
It was superb.  
  
“Well... I keep trying to think about what I... What I want to do.”  
  
“Something stupid and pretentious and book-y, right? Like, let me guess. It'll be your next Halloween costume, pick one of the following – Sexy Librarian, Sexy Archivist, or Sexy Book.”  
  
“I can't... Be a book...”  
  
“Aha, it was option number three!”  
  
Natsuki dodged the flurry of (disappointingly weak) punches that Yuri threw with the speed of an athlete, and the grace of a ballerina.  
The way she was able to continue eating while dodging was impressive, as well.  
  
“I wouldn't mind sous-cheffing it up in the city. Are you gonna move back there?”  
  
“... To be honest, I hadn't even thought of that. I – Don't think I'd like city life, anymore, but at the same time...”  
  
“Well, you're loaded, so you can stay in a place like this. That's not an option for me. Also, only a person who grew up in the city'd love a backwater shitsmear like this place.”  
  
Natsuki said as she put the sandwich against her knees, and stared at the noonday sun, with its orange glow and gentle rays of light, with an expression of tranquil love.  
  
“Me... Yeah, I think getting some kind of culinary degree, or just – winging it, and apprenticing my way forward until I can get a bakery, or a serious job, or become a Super Steel Che – “  
  
“I'll watch every episode you're on, if you do. And... I hate...”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, television rots the mind, I hear you. But hey, I'll do something cool so you recognize me if you do! Uh, maybe a hand-gesture, or...”  
  
“Natsuki, I'd recognise you no matter where you were. I hope that doesn't sound awful, but...”  
  
“Oho, I'm just that distinct, huh? Fine, I get it. Well – I don't mind, in your case. But I hope you realise I'm 100% serious about this. The idea of actually getting out there in the world – it's scary, but I'm happy.”  
  
Her feet kicking ito the breeze, Natsuki lay back against the stone, and hummed. A look of discontent – or perhaps merely deep thought – played across the soft lines of her face.  
  
“So – what about you? Really, I mean? You'll be... Okay here, on your own?”  
  
…  
  
_Would she?  
  
_ The reality was that Yuri wasn't certain how she'd fare without a friend around.  
Despite the fact that she disliked people, it felt as if she was adrift and useless without a lifeline.  
There was always the matter of steel, she could fall back on _that_ when needed, but...  
  
Doing so too much would be – foolish, for many reasons.  
And she was responsible, her methods were responsible.  
  
There was no possible world where she – went overboard, even the thought was ridiculous...  
  
_But, would she?  
  
_ “I've got the Yamamura family, and my mother might visit for a week, which – I haven't seen her for years. I'm worried I won't recognise her, I – we've still got a year and two quarters, Natsuki! Honestly...”  
  
“Doesn't hurt to think ahead. Some weird dark-haired girl told me that.”  
  
“... I did...”  
  
“You must have just been talking without thinking; don't worry, you do that a lot.”  
  
“He, hehehe... Uh, well. Hrmn. I think – Actually, I think I'd like to do something with my hands. Maybe... Carving, or woodcrafting...”  
  
“What about writing?”  
  
“Oh, Natsuki..! If I wrote for money, I'd die. To have to publish the things I've written, for nobody but whose eyes I chose to share them with? I'd rather – I'd rather die! Then let the... The _masses_ get their dirty...”  
  
“Your distaste for the common, hard-working salt-of-the-earth citizenry is the real stain, here, Yuri. Take a look at me! I'm about as common as dirt, and – “  
  
“Two hundred time as cute, yes.”  
  
“So, the real reason you were in the hospital, or – whatever, is that you had your heart surgically removed, got it.”  
  
“... Aha, I like that one. I _am_ heartless, Natsuki. A heartless devourer of cute girls!”  
  
“More like a heartless devourer of their hard-work. Where's my poor sandwich's thank you, for her noble sacrifice?”  
  
“O, oh. Thank you sandwich. Rest... In _piece._ ”  
  
“That's better.”  
  
Above them, slow clouds had began to solidify, rolling into one another and forming the great grey trains of cloudstuff that preceded heavy rain, and the therapeutic roar of the heavens that Yuri liked best.  
It wouldn't happen while they were out here, of course, but – perhaps tonight, there'd be the perfect accompaniment for her interior symphony, of violent flashes, red and blue –  
  
“... Ugh. Look, I don't want to be _that_ friend, but... I feel like I might as well get it off my chest...”  
  
“As if there's... Much there, to get off...”  
  
“Ignoring that. Yuri.”  
  
Natsuki's eyes clouded, too.  
She lay into her open palm, braced against her knees, and stared off into the distance, as if expecting a challenge from the sky.  
  
What did Natsuki see in the heavens, then?  
  
An enemy, a friend, a saviour...  
  
Or something else, entirely..?”  
  
“You fall in love really easily. I saw you talking to Ichiro the other day, and how – you really were hurt when you found out that he knew a girl, right?”  
  
“...”  
  
She did not respond to that, but there was no need.  
It was amazing how silence had become as comfortable between them as sound; but she was glad for it, even when it hurt.  
After all – being hurt, and becoming stronger because of it, was a sign of strength; a sign that you were _alive.  
  
_ “Well... I don't mind that about you, but, you set yourself up to be hurt a lot. And I don't care, I mean, that's your business. You get that, right?”  
  
“Don't worry, Natsuki. I do.”  
  
“Okay. All right. Good. It's just – I worry about it, because I feel like you almost, aha, need somebody around, or you get... Wired, I guess.”  
  
It was Yuri's turn to sit up, cradling her cheeks between her pale fingers.  
She couldn't even tan if she tried, these days, but at least the sunhat she wore suited her; and at least she could pretend it was part of her image.  
  
“You aren't wrong. I love... Being in love. Feeling wanted.”  
  
“That's stupid. You are wanted.”  
  
“... Maybe. I mean, I... I even know that, logically. But this is the one area where I can't just – power through with logic, you see...”  
  
“Yeah, but, Yuri! You don't even love any of the people you see, or express interest in! It's, I can see it clear as day! Hell, I don't know if you even _like_ any of them! So stop, just – giving yourself away, all right? It – it hurts!”  
  
Natsuki frowned, but seemed happy that she'd said her piece.  
As to Yuri – she thought.  
  
“... Maybe it's not easy to explain, but, I actually hate love. I don't think I – deserve it, you see. But, if – if I met somebody I truly loved...”  
  
“What does that even _mean_ Yuri? I'm not gonna make googly eyes at anybody that gives me the time of day, but I'm also not gonna... Sabotage myself because I've got crazy loopy Yuri ideas in my mind – “  
  
“My mind is not!.. Full of, of, crazy loopy... Yuri ideas...”  
  
“You could've fooled me.”  
  
“Well – it means that... Uhmn...”  
  
She pulled the brim of the sunhat far down around her face, so that it covered the slight, but terribly unescapable wreck that was her blushing.  
Natsuki poked the brim up, grinning villainously.  
  
“Tell me, or I'll steal one of your knives.”  
  
“ _You wouldn't dare!_ ”  
  
“I would. In a heartbeat. They're kinda cool, though do you really need two of them?”  
  
And in her mind, Yuri smiled that she only knew of _two_ of them; but her smile in the waking world was careful and soft and gentle, and betrayed nothing.  
_Oh!_  
  
Except that, she'd thought of a rather lovely gift, for later, for some time –  
  
“Putting your... Crass evil aside... It means that... Sorry, this isn't easy for me to say. I just – I wouldn't let love pass me by. The person I met, if I truly – if I loved them, they'd know it. Whomever they were, whether they were... A man, or...”  
  
“Ah, good! But would you actually _love_ them, or just be the weird kooky Yuri I'm worried about?”  
  
“I – I don't know.”  
  
Natsuki frowned again, but more because she was deep in thought.  
Her small fingers tapped her forehead thoughtfully, a few times, and finally she grinned.  
  
“Ah, got it! All right, here's the deal! Just promise me that – whenever you find somebody you think you love, don't – tear yourself up over them, okay? For their sake, and yours, and mine.”  
  
… She could do that.  
  
Grinning, Yuri held out her pinky – and Natsuki swatted it away with a grumble.  
  
“What the hell, you can't just make pinky promises all the time like that! It robs them of their sacred significance!”  
  
“There's nothing especially... Sacred about pinkies, Natsuki...”  
  
“Says you! Dumbass. We're gonna shake on it!”  
  
“Oh, how... Brusque. All right, then.”  
  
Natsuki held out her hand, and Yuri took it tightly in her own.  
They shook, and it was possible that the other girl might have seen the lines of evidence that just escaped Yuri's sweater – but she understood, even if she did.  
  
… Which is why Yuri relied on them less and less, after all.  
  
Beaming, Natsuki rolled up the plastic and placed it back in her bookbag, sighing contently.  
  
“I feel great – thanks for trusting me on that one, Yuri. I – didn't want to seem nosy, or anything, but...”  
  
“You're not. In fact... I like this side of you, too.”  
  
“Well – thanks. I just love all of this; spring, the feeling of new life, birds and bees and animals everywhere...”  
  
“They're all looking to... To mate, you know...”  
  
“Is your mind just a portal to some kind of gutter, or something? Ugh, you ruin everything!”  
  
“Hmn... That's absolutely true. You're a precious and innocent soul, Natsuki. I should be striving to protect you more, shouldn't I?”  
  
“Protect, pfft. I look after myself!”  
  
Natsuki grumbled, grinding her teeth together.  
Maybe it'd been too much; but, she'd been surprised to find she liked teasing people, almost as much as she enjoyed talking to them.  
Or, maybe she just liked teasing Natsuki –  
  
“Anyway. I've gotta...”  
  
The younger girl shrugged, gave a vague frown, and gestured back towards town.  
Yuri frowned in a manner that was quite less vague, lips pulled harshly down against the edges of her teeth.  
  
“No, you don't. You don't need to go anywhere, Natsuki. If... If you really feel like you've got to be back home – “  
  
“I do, all right? You wouldn't understand.”  
  
They were both silent, at that.  
And of course – Yuri couldn't understand, not really.  
  
“... Well, will you at least escort me home...”  
  
“Yeah, sure. That much I can do. I mean, it's no challenge for somebody like me!”  
  
Speaking as if the countryside were full of demons and monsters, Natsuki hopped to the grass, and faced up to the sun with a sneer on her face and the glare in her eyes – wincing a little bit, at that.  
  
“O-o-o-o, that's bright... It really feels like spring, huh...”  
  
“I kind of wish spring'd never end.”  
  
“Yeah, well, that's you, you weirdo. Let's go!”  
  
Neither of their hands were soft, exactly; Natsuki's were a little rough from so much time spent at the sink, kneading dough, and sifting through boxes.  
And her own were – her own.  
  
But even though Natsuki had her own thoughts to tend to, and her own battles to fight, they took the long and lazy way home, just Yuri'd hoped.  
The tall shadows of trees hung over them like comforting blankets, providing a shade that was far gentler than the liquid warmth of spring.  
  
Occasionally, people'd ride by on bicycles, or motorbikes, or scooters – less commonly, a car'd drive by on the roads beside them, desperate to be somewhere else rather than in the void that was the country.  
  
Sometimes, Yuri liked to imagine that she'd stop, and see her mother or father, and wave.  
  
“Do you daydream, a lot?”  
  
Natsuki asked, quietly, as the dappled light above flowed down from the treeline.  
Yuri was silent, uncertain how she wanted to answer that – because she did daydream, of course, but as to whether or not she liked it...  
  
“I... I suppose I do. There's a fine line between daydreaming and just... Not being certain of things. Like – is, is this light real, or am I just perceiving it as real...”  
  
“What the hell?! What does that mean, anyway?!”  
  
“Tsch, it – it means what I say it means! Or rather, whatever I want it to mean... Honestly... Uhmn... It's more that it means, I – do you ever sometimes... Wonder if anyone but yourself is truly – if they really exist...”  
  
“No, of course not. Dumbass...”  
  
But they walked in silence for some time, and Natsuki's grip was a little softer, her face contorted into a thoughtful grimace.  
  
“... Okay, I do think weird things like that, _occasionally._ But, you know, that doesn't mean that they're right! I feel like if you're worried about what's real or what isn't real you're just... Making things complex, for the sake of making things complex!”  
  
“Perhaps. B, but – I don't have the option to just stop thinking like that. It's always at the back of my head, I suppose... Just, aching there, and making me wonder if other people feel the same.”  
  
“You always have the choice to stop thinking like that.”  
  
“M... Maybe...”  
  
The wind kicked up, very slightly – and a new leaf fell from one of the light-struck trees, striking Yuri right above her nose, and half-plastering itself to her face.  
  
Cross-eyed, she stared up at it, exchanging stunned and nervous grins with Natsuki –  
  
And then, they both laughed, and as she laughed the leaf blew off into the breeze; and it was green and light and buoyant.  
  
“Gosh, you're just – pretentious. That's what I think you are. Pretentious.”  
  
“Well, I think I'm the opposite of that. I don't ever... Claim to be anything but who I am. Pretension is about somebody who wants to... Put on airs, right? I – Maybe I mislead people, but it's not with my... Sophistry, or anything like that...”  
  
“Yeah, it's because you talk like you're recovering from an – owowowow – “  
  
Natsuki pretended to dodge Yuri's flow of (incredibly, disappointingly weak) punches, while stopping at an old crosswalk in the residentials – well, the residentials where Yuri lived, that was.  
  
Since Natsuki lived at the other side of town, and Yuri'd started understanding the differences a lot better, as of late.  
  
“... Guess I have to leave you here, huh... That seems... Ugh...”  
  
“D, don't give up, Natsuki! You can just – “  
  
There was an awkward pause, and she knew what she should have said was 'come inside' but – she still wasn't sure that was possible, not yet.  
Fear, fear of being discovered, of being examined, of being _helped_ , when she didn't anyone's help, anyone's _pity –  
  
_ “Haha, don't worry about it. We'll see each other at school, later!”  
  
Natsuki said with a wry smile, and waved, and waved again, and turned back and waved once more, even as she faded into the horizon – and Yuri wanted so _desperately_ to say something, to find any reason to chase her down, and invite her in for tea, or for – for anything, really.  
  
But courage didn't find her, even though she felt more alive than she'd felt in years...  
  
And the moment she'd closed the door, and chained the door, and let it lock her back into a routine of familiar comfort, she fell to the ground and placed her arms around her knees and _thought.  
  
_ What was the point of being friends with someone if you couldn't even return that friendship?  
  
Had she failed Natsuki, somehow – made it so that Natsuki wouldn't view her as a friend to trust, ever again?  
And – was she overthinking it, were Natsuki and herself truly just so different...  
  
She trudged up the stairs and fell into her bed with the _whumpf_ of sheets.  
For once, she didn't even feel like looking at her beloved iron and steel; for she was so exhausted than when sleep called her name, she surrendered to it without a second thought.


	13. XIII. Titus Groan

Without even a second thought, summer had fallen upon them.  
Classes had been – harder than she'd remembered them being, and sometimes she just took 'time off' – not because of any illness (the reason she gave), or despair (as she'd imagined she must feel) – but just to...  
  
To think, really.  
  
And she kept wondering how it was possible the world would allow it, waiting any minute for someone – child services, perhaps, or even just a concerned teacher – to waltz in unannounced, with a notice that her habits weren't going to be allowed, anymore.  
  
But that hadn't happened, and _slowly?_  
Slowly, she was catching up.  
  
New rumours had spread that she was a loner, or suffered from some hereditary disease, or even that her parents had been involved in some shady business with overseas backers.  
Maybe some of those rumours were even true – it wasn't her place to say.  
  
And the funny thing, was...  
  
The less she said, the more elabourate the rumours became, until they were intriguingly over-developed, something that she and Natsuki could joke about when the sun climbed too high and the temperature felt like it might burst.  
  
With the two of them sitting against the sidewalk, trying to will the sun out of the sky, it felt a little like the memories she pushed away, something cherished and loved.  
  
Natsuki was wearing overalls and an apron; the Yamamura family had been grilling outside, and the scent of grilled meat had somehow attracted her like – a _cat_ or something. It'd been quite impressive, and Yuri'd been giggling about it for most of the day.  
  
“I'm just saying. I wish there were rumours about me! Imagine: Natsuki is so strong she could punch a guy through a wall!”  
  
“There's – no possible world I can see that happening in...”  
  
“Yeah, well, that's because you lack imagination.”  
  
“...! I, I – I DO NOT. In fact, my imagination is unbeatable. It's just that you're so... Unremarkable that I'm having trouble thinking of a rumour that could suit you.”  
  
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Yuri.”  
  
The smug little smile, that one fang sticking out –  
  
Inhale. Exhale.  
  
And Yuri laughed, even as the smoke from the grill behind them continued to rise.  
What with the sun above them, it felt almost like there was a fire that could rise up from the soil itself, devouring them both in a torrent of falling ash –  
  
“Stop it.”  
  
“W – What...”  
  
Natsuki growled indecipherably, and Yuri _knew_ what she was referring to, but refused to acknowledge it.  
She never let it form a habit, of course.  
She had only _one_ habit, and that was _entirely_ under her control, really –  
  
“You're – uuuuUUuugh! You're awful, Yuri! I just want you to look out for yourself, okay?! If you're just gonna... Mess around with yourself – “  
  
“Natsuki..!”  
  
“Maybe you can do it alone, okay?!”  
  
“P, please, I really didn't catch what you meant by that – “  
  
A moment of hesitation spilled over the summer sky, and through the clouds above – the light shone down, dancing between the both of them.  
It was impossible to say what choice Natsuki was going to make, her movements slow, like a dancer caught in motion...  
  
With a sigh, she hunkered back down to the ground, arms against her waist.  
  
The scowl she wore was visible as the sky above, and infinitely less warm.  
  
“D'you ever feel like there's this kinda... Pre-ordained order to everything? Like, everything you suffer, everything your friends suffer, it's just – tough luck, that's how it is. That's how it will always be. You deserved it.”  
  
“Natsuki...”  
  
“I just expect you to have a kind of a view like that, since, you know, you've – I mean, I enjoy spending time with you, but it seems like you'll listen just fine when we're discussing... Unimportant stuff, but then – “  
  
She spat, and the spittle stuck to the asphalt, sizzling in the heat.  
  
“ – When I even try to say, hey, Yuri. I'm here for you, it's just – 'Ohohoho, I'm fine, I'm dainty as hell, bla, bla, bla.' That's how it is.”  
  
“... D... Do you really think I'm dainty as hell...”  
  
“No! Of course not!”  
  
That, at least, brought back a tiny hint of a smile, only just lingering against Natsuki's lips.  
But the younger girl gave a shrug, hunching back into herself and staring at the road with a less dour – but still thoughtful – expression.  
  
“And that's how it is with me. I feel like everything I do kind of... Bounces back towards itself, slowly. Like there's some kind of weird string pulling me around the mistakes I make...”  
  
“I don't... I don't think you make mistakes. I think the mistake other people make is – not... Not valuing you, enough...”  
  
Yuri looked away, and Natsuki exhaled sharply, looking angry –  
But perhaps a little happy.  
  
“Fine. Well, thanks for valuing me, then.”  
  
“... D, did I ever say that _I_ valued you...”  
  
“GEEZE, YURI. If I didn't know better I'd assume you wanted to get into a fight. And if you wanna fight, I'll go, right here and right now – “  
  
“No, heavens, no... I'd lose, you'd... Whup my... My ass, and then the local newspapers'd be... Stuffed to the brim with all sorts of... Horrible rumours – “  
  
“See, there they are again! Rumours are great, so reliable!”  
  
“Putting that aside, the rumours would be that you'd been the one to finish me, and then where would we be? I'd be – dead, I suppose, and there'd only be you to mourn me. And that would be a little – tragic, wouldn't it...”  
  
Natsuki winced and rubbed at the back of her neck.  
  
“I wouldn't be the only one to mourn you, come on...”  
  
“Maybe I see it differently. But – maybe I'm fine with that.”  
  
“Yuri...”  
  
“No, I mean it. I'd rather have... Just a few people I care for celebrating my death, rather than a crowd of people, pretending to care and just... There for the free food, or... Or whatever...”  
  
At this, Natsuki blanched – and then her eyes slowly widened at the slight smirk Yuri wore.  
Natsuki grumbled to herself, again, and ran her fingers over her face as if she were weaving some kind of exhausted spell.  
  
“Youv're unVELEEVAVLE, Yuvri.”  
  
Came the filtered words from underneath sweaty fingers, and Yuri – giggled, a little.  
Well, _finally,_ someone had caught on to it –  
  
“I certainly am. But it's all true. Only people who can appreciate my... Refined humour, should have the right to be my friend – “  
  
“ Hey, wait a sec. Putting all that aside, don't you mean 'celebrate your life?' Who, ahem, just goes and celebrates your _death_ , anyhow? If you ask me, that doesn't make sense. And if you ask me again, which you should, what the hell, Yuri!?”  
  
“... Why don't people celebrate both?”  
  
Frowned Yuri, petulantly, arms against her waist.  
  
“Do you need to have some kind of – some kind of reasoning, to celebrate both your life and your death? And if the latter is – is even greater, even more important to you than the former, is that really so wrong?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
… Her eyes wore down to gimlets, but Natsuki's grimace was – if Yuri was going to be honest, and she felt as if she _had_ to be – rather unbeatable, itself.  
  
“Of course it is. Okay, so, let's assume I'm a gloomy mugwump, like you.”  
  
“Gloomy... Mugwump..!”  
  
“Mmn. And, in this assumption, I read a lot of books that are basically just, okay, I'm going to translate from Yuri to Natsuki right now... They're all puff and no pastry. Which means they're just filler, but without the filler. It's just – air, okay? Vacuous.”  
  
“ _Or_ maybe they're just incredibly difficult and interesting and require more than a cursory glance and a review from some... Mangaka to parse!”  
  
“Cool, maybe they are.”  
  
… Yuri frowned, because Natsuki _meant_ that. She always _meant_ things, and that just left her, looking...  
What did she look like? A fool, some kind of – argumentative dog, or a mangy wolf, or...  
  
“Anyway, that's not really important. What is important is that they all have this theme to them, okay, and the theme is basically that death is greater than life. And the protagonist always dies, or the person that Yuri'd assume is the protagonist always dies.”  
  
“I'm, I'm right here, Natsuki..!”  
  
“Yup. And _that's_ what you chose to fixate on, proving my point!”  
  
She was so SMALL and ARROGANT and SMUG and RIGHT and OOOOoOOO _OoOOoOOOoooo –  
  
_ Not even leveraging her breathing helped, this time, and Yuri's grumbling continued, quietly.  
  
When she'd finally worn herself out, she glanced over her shoulder, at the merrily simmering grill behind them.  
The scents coming off of it were incredibly enticing, and though they hadn't eaten yet, she was – glad that Natsuki had appeared when she did, even if this felt a bit like an inquisition.  
  
Beside her, Natsuki was grinning up with a happiness that came from arguing – and from trusting someone enough that you were willing to _risk_ arguing with them.  
  
Sighing – but smiling, in spite of it, Yuri traced patterns in the dirt along the asphalt, where it drifted into one of the road's few potholes –  
Yet to be replaced.  
  
“Honestly...”  
  
Outside of the smoky scent of wood and meat, there was – something else.  
A distinctly summer smell; something like an admixture of burnt paper and _heat_ and sweat trickling down your spine.  
Maybe there wasn't a word for it, but she felt _certain_ that it lived in summertime, indescribable, yet immediately apparent to all who'd felt its touch.  
  
“Maybe you are right. Maybe I do... Understand what you're saying. But why are _you_ fixating on _me?_ Could it be... That I've somehow wound up on your mind, all the time...”  
  
Her grin was wolfish, too, and Natsuki snorted in response.  
  
“No. Hell no! Like I'd even think of you while I'm on the crapper!”  
  
… Yuri's reply, which was dry, even by her own standards, was a grim frown that might have been the only truly cold thing in the summer heat.  
Natsuki snorted again – in laughter, this time.  
  
“W, well, I'm glad you find this _amusing._ Honestly, no sense of – of romance, when a beautiful young... Lady mentions something coy to you...”  
  
“Mmn, beautiful, nope, young lady, nope.”  
  
“I'll... Destroy you...”  
  
“Scary, but also a lie! We haven't had food yet, therefore you need me! Woah, this is great! It's like I've taken complete control of your life!”  
  
“OooOoOOoh, Natsuki I'm going to...”  
  
“Gonna _what, huh? 'Cause if you're gonna do something, do it already!_ ”  
  
What –  
  
Had happened...  
  
The atmosphere fell apart in a second; less than a second.  
  
Both of them had risen, Yuri's fingers shaking in uneasy fists as she stood forehead to forehead with Natsuki, who'd climbed up onto the sidewalk and was standing on her tiptoes.  
In any other moment, the sight would've been comical, but here...  
  
From high on above, the summer sky felt as if it might descend and devour them alive in a terrible prison of heat, leaving only scorched shapes in the images of girls.  
  
… She could feel Natsuki's sweat, trickling against her own.  
  
Neither of them was going to back down; neither of them was going to blink.  
Was – Was Natsuki, crying...  
  
“Fu – Fuck you, Yuri...”  
  
Natsuki whispered, and dabbed at her eyes, leaving only the fierce look that was something _akin_ to hatred, that undaunted and fiery gaze that would've made her back down, if Yuri was anything like she – like she portrayed herself...  
  
“I'm sorry...”  
  
Yuri mumbled, not sure why she should be sorry, or what she should be sorry about.  
Natsuki kept glaring at her, and looked as if she might tear up again, but then slowly dropped back down to her feet, and gave Yuri a soft, slightly stilted embrace.  
  
“... Whatever. I forgive you. Wasn't important, anyway.”  
  
“All... All right..?”  
  
“Oh, but that means I better go at least check on those yakitori, huh? I know they're not the best, but – eh, I'm pretty famished. You're the same, right?”  
  
“Sure...”  
  
Yuri replied, and Natsuki walked off with a toothy grin – too big, and too surreal to be even a parody of itself.  
  
What had she said?  
No, what had she _done?  
_ It was all too exhausting for her to handle, to deal with in this time – and she just wanted to curl up with a book and be done with it, and not have to think, ever again.  
  
But it was for the best that she didn't just – abandon her friend in the neighbor's yard, and Yuri forced herself to her feet.  
  
The grill was still belching woodsmoke, and Natsuki was talking animatedly to Yamamura Sr.  
And they seemed to know each other pretty well, but that was Natsuki, for you.  
Her blunt, down-to-earth mannerisms ended up...  
  
Charming everyone, really...  
  
And Yuri winced, and her head ached, and she wished she knew what to say.  
  
“... But you gotta look in on her more. She's so mopey that if, you know, I ever can't come around, force yourself in the door or something – Oh, look, it's the sad sack we were talking about!”  
  
“Sad sack, mmn. Not 'xactly the word I'd use to describe Mashiro. Really a proper lil' lady.”  
  
“Proper, tsch. Look at her! Girls her age should be hopping around and placing flower crowns on sleeping deer and, I don't know... Frilly girly stuff...”  
  
“You both sound like old men, Natsuki...”  
  
“ 'M an old man...”  
  
Muttered Yamamura Senior, before politely excusing himself.  
But – he'd been quite happy; to have someone to talk to, besides his family, to be enjoying that conversation...  
  
To see her, again...  
  
Yuri bit her lip, but hid it well.  
  
“See, Yuri! If you just had a biiiiit more confidence, you'd be – “  
  
“Oh, I have plenty of that.”  
  
Her whisper was breathy, and quiet.  
That was the problem, wasn't it?  
  
Even her friends couldn't see it.  
How it was all – her fault, in the end.  
How her confidence was part and parcel of it, and when she dared to care, to let it all out, she just – it consumed her, and –  
  
Against the heat, the grill hissed as skewers were turned against it, the perfect blend of seared brown.  
  
Natsuki stared at her, expression unreadable.  
  
“Can I ask you – just one favour, Yuri?”  
  
“... I don't promise anything. I don't – I'm still kind of trying to find the blend between the person I am, and the person I'd like to be...”  
  
“Fine. That's – I mean that, okay? That's fine. But I just – don't smoke, okay.”  
  
Both of them stared at each other, Yuri slightly agape; Natsuki looking nervously away as if she was afraid she was going to be hit, or – or something.  
  
Yuri laughed.  
She laughed until she almost felt like she might cry, but no matter how hard she wanted to – because it was funny, not because it was sad! – the tears wouldn't come, because they never did.  
  
And slowly, Natsuki's nerves turned into obvious, anxious confusion.  
  
“I'm... I'm sorry, Natsuki. Just – how did you find out, how did you figure... I only just started, I promise – “  
  
“You carry around a lighter wherever you go! And I was worried it was either that or that you'd, I don't know, set fire to the school and everyone in it while humming some shitty enka song or something – “  
  
“Enka isn't shitty, Natsuki!”  
  
“Bite me!”  
  
_“NO!”_  
  
“Well, all right, but it really is... Anyway, I just – assumed. Yesterday, there was that pack kinda hanging out of your blazer, so...”  
  
“Oh...”  
  
She'd picked them up from the convenience store; colourful foreign cigarettes that she liked the look of.  
They made her feel exceptionally mature, though she really _did_ monitor herself like a hawk, there was – really, no danger at all...  
  
Yuri shook the pack free, and held it in front of her.  
Natsuki frowned, and didn't look quite at it.  
  
“... Does it bother you that much...”  
  
Began Yuri, not knowing what else to say.  
  
“Of, of course it does. Knowing my _best friend_ hurts herself like that, with – filth like that, yeah, offuckingcourse it hurts. And maybe I just don't like smoking, okay? Do I need a reason to care?!”  
  
It felt like they were going to snap again, so Yuri made her decision, and dropped the package to the ground, crushing it beneath a stomp of her boot.  
Then, after a moment's awkward pause, she retrieved it from the ground and nervously vanished into her own house, to dispose of it properly.  
  
She could _feel_ the obvious blush of embarrassment on her face.  
But Natsuki looked a kind of elated that only the smug could truly appreciate.  
  
“Right, I knew you'd do the right thing!”  
  
“Oh, what, no _... 'Thanks, Yuri, you're so great, and amazing – '_ ”  
  
“Hey! I do not sound ANYTHING like that! I just saved you a world of trouble, and here you are mocking me, I don't get you at all...”  
  
“Just... Hand me some of that grilled bird and try not to give me any more... Useless demands, all right?”  
  
But as they ate in peace, she realised that she'd come to terms with the 'useless demands' Natsuki made of her.  
She liked them.  
Even if it meant – ceding a bit of the control she had over her life, just a little...  
  
If it was Natsuki, that was fine.  
Maybe, even...  
  
The yakitori was delicious; just the right blend of charred and marinated, as she'd expected of Natsuki; and they ate in peace, the rest soon placed against a blanket of foil, for the Yamamura family to take at their leisure.  
  
And two girls sat against the grass, and stared into the sky.  
  
“Do you ever think we're gonna make it out of this place, Yuri?”  
  
“I – didn't you...”  
  
“Yeah. But I just – wanna be reassured.”  
  
“... Maybe. Maybe we will.”  
  
“Hehe, you're the absolute best!..”  
  
“What if I lied, though? Sorry, I mean – I didn't, but why would you just – accept my word, as if it were true?”  
  
“Because we're friends, of course.”  
  
Long after they'd parted ways, those words stood out for her.  
  
_Friends..._  
  
The night was a long evening, the kind of languid chill that only came about in summertime.  
Her mother called, for a few minutes, but had to go without saying much of anything besides the usual.  
  
_I'm working hard.  
Are you working hard?  
Please work hard. For both of us._

 _Don't give up!  
  
**  
we love you  
  
  
**_ But it didn't sting as much, at the moment.  
  
Really – there wasn't much she felt at all.  
… Friends.  
  
Even in the moment, it was impossible for her to say that she thought of Natsuki as a 'friend', because that seemed...  
Simplistic, too damn simplistic.  
But – that was better than the alternative, of – making things complex...  
  
So, Yuri experimented a little, and simply tried to cut it out of her mind.  
  
To her surprise it was easy to not think too hard about Natsuki at all.  
That winsome smile and confidence, that – melancholic way she looked at anything, if she stared at it too long...  
All of those things could be reshaped, stored away, compartmentalised.  
  
Because if she got too close to her – if the two of them became any closer...  
Wouldn't it just turn out the same –  
  
Pattering across the floor, her bare feet kicked up clouds of dust.  
Yuri ran to the refrigerator, and retrieved some cold tea she'd left to chill.  
It was – embarrassingly simple stuff, the kind she'd make fun of somebody else for making, but right now –  
  
It tasted cold and pleasant, like the night air...  
And the pouring thunder of a summer storm, bringing with it a flickering of the lights.  
Everything was – how she preferred it.  
  
Yuri sank beside, but not into, the couch.  
  
Using it to buoy her weight, somewhat, she stared out the high window, into the night outside. It was a strange and beautiful thing; as varied and complex as the day had been.  
But how would she have described that complexity – how would she have put it to words...  
  
Frustrated, she watched the distant dance of light, and then turned to the television set – the power seemed to be working still, so, she, feeling as if she might as well...  
  
The film she chose was about an island, with several people invited to it.  
It was an adaptation of a certain novel she enjoyed, though she found most adaptations sorely lacking. This one was incredibly grim, and she savoured it from the beginning until the very end –  
Only as it left her hollow in the knowledge she'd just ran away from her troubles, again.  
  
Natsuki wasn't going to go anywhere – and she couldn't just run away from Natsuki, forever.  
And if she tried to get close, Yuri knew she'd get – the things she wanted were greedy, and jealous.  
So there would have to be some level of distance.  
  
That was _one._ Efficient; she'd make a list.  
  
_So, two..._ What would two end up being...  
  
Despite the darkness, there was plenty of light to write by, and she wrote, eagerly.  
All the things she thought about, and how she felt around Natsuki.  
And it was exactly as complex as she'd imagined, because it wasn't as simple as saying something, like...  
  
“I like you.”  
  
“I dislike you.”  
  
“I hate you.”  
  
Or...  
Any other variation of that statement.  
  
When Natsuki was happy, she was too; but there was something about her that made Yuri irrationally angry, like – like, if there was some kind of fate, it was pushing them towards and arbitrary conflict, with no beginning or end.  
And she hated that, but had no clue on how to fight it.  
  
Whenever she tried to, it just seemed she stepped on Natsuki's feet, or – brought out her own concerns.  
But whatever secrets she held, Natsuki guarded them well – and that meant wringing them free would be...  
  
Difficult.  
  
And – did she even want to..?  
  
That was the worst part of it.  
It wasn't that she minded Natsuki _caring_ ; she craved that more than anything else, just the idea that someone – somebody cared...  
Her eyes shut, clinging to that riotously happy idea, before letting it drift to sea, and drown.  
  
_No._  
  
No, she did not care; not in the way you want, because _you do not deserve that.  
  
_ Let it go; inhale. Exhale.  
  
Smiling, Yuri glanced down at her list, pausing with her pen against her chin.  
The paper, illuminated by another spire of lightning, looked a bit messy, and a bit congested.  
  
Put in perspective like that, she really didn't enjoy the idea of Natsuki trying to help her.  
The closer she got, the more Yuri wanted to pull away.  
And if she rolled back the last layer of mystery she'd thrown up around herself, what then?  
There would be nowhere else to hide – which was unthinkable.  
  
At that point, she might as well simply...  
  
_Right.  
  
_ Yuri's brows knit together, as she wrote a bit more, quietly.  
There was no way she was going to let herself grow closer to Natsuki.  
By arguing with her at just the right time, and making sure to keep her at arm's length, they'd never be at the risk of growing too close to one another, and thus she'd never be at risk of losing Natsuki.  
  
She could feel her sweat creeping down her spine, cool and clammy.  
  
_Disgusting._  
  
Though she hated the person she'd become, it _was_ her, just as much as this ugly, out-of-kilter body that she'd inherited.  
And she, as she realised that she was _terrified_ of losing Natsuki, she felt wonderfully and incredibly free, as if she could rise to her legs-like-needles and dance around in the dust.  
  
_That had been it, the entire time!  
  
_ So...  
  
_Yuri danced.  
  
Her bare feet met with the dust as if they had always been waiting for her to dance with them, discolouring her feet with motes of grey.  
  
The 'list', left incomplete, fell from her fingertips and drifted along the stale air, before it wedged itself behind a corner – and all but disappeared from sight, and from mind.  
She wanted to cradle something, or hold something, and dance like a truly elegant woman might, but –  
  
Nothing was there, of course; and there never was.  
  
So she plucked a pillow from the sofa and held it to her cheek and whispered to it, and laughed at the fact it couldn't respond.  
Of course it couldn't respond. Which was natural, for an object.  
Actually, because it was an object, she could do whatever she liked to it.  
  
Her racing footsteps echoed up the stairs as well, and her selection for the evening was utterly clean.  
  
Carefully, as if she was dissecting some rare subject in the kind of movie where a mad scientist brings a cadaver back to life, Yuri slit the pillow down the centre.  
Her breath came out slow, and shallow, and ragged.  
  
Fluff had spilled helplessly to the floor.  
  
And Yuri stared down at it, imperiously.  
  
Good.  
Very good.  
It felt amazing; that made sense.  
  
_ Her fingers twitched as she pulled a piece at random from the ground, watching it quiver like cotton in between her fingertips.  
She held it to her forehead, so that it was right in front of her eyes, and dropped it to her lips and _blew_ -  
  
_Remnants of what had been left of a pillow and a piece of paper and all sorts of garbage littered the floor.  
Amidst the pile, a shape that resembled a girl lay against the wall, breathing heavily.  
The scent of smoke pervaded the room. It was summer; and one by one, what was left was burnt.  
  
Everything was perfect; and pleasing to her. Even if she wanted to cry.  
  
After that, it was easy to remain distant, and content herself to being Natsuki's shadow._


	14. XIV. Coin Locker Babies

Outside the shed behind the school, the familiar and comforting scent of smoke filled her lungs; nobody seemed to notice or care, out here, and since she only indulged herself once in a great while, that was fine -  
  
Coughing, Yuri contemplated the autumn weather, thoughtfully.  
  
Her grades had been up, and every few weeks she and Natsuki 'hung' out.  
Natsuki'd clearly wanted more, at first, and she had, too – but things were never as easy as all that.  
And now they fought, most every day they met –  
  
_But that was fine.  
  
_ The pressure fell down about her smoke, outlined it against itself.  
She let the ashes fall, and waved the colourful cigarette in the air like a tiny, burning baton.  
  
… Fire, and steel. There should have been a book of poetry about those two, simple, things –  
  
_Might as well skip, then.  
  
_ She'd started keeping track of the bare minimum days she needed to be in attendance to graduate.  
There was no reason to put in any effort beyond that, outside of keeping her grades afloat.  
She understood the coursework, probably, and wasn't that enough –  
  
Yuri jumped the fence with the flutter of long skirts – and a great deal more effort than she'd liked, but that was who she was, now.  
  
It was all so very _fine.  
  
_ The ruins of the cigarette lay burnt underfoot, and with her hands in the pockets of her blazer, she could cut back home and claim medical issues, like she always did.  
People just – accepted it, after all.  
  
Leaves crunched in a shower of fiery colours, underneath her feet; golden and yellow and orange and red.  
The heady maple leaves were her favourites, but none were spared from her loping stride.  
  
She smiled a bit, and wasn't sure why; hummed a bit, and wasn't sure if she should.  
  
_And so, she was very surprised when she heard somebody humming back_ – albeit a bit nervously, like her humming was a crime, or something to be hid away.  
  
Yuri paused, pursed her lips, and the humming stopped.  
  
Had she heard that tone before..?  
  
“Sorry! Please don't get embarrassed, I just like humming so, I, aha! I got carried away, and...”  
  
In an alleyway to her left, there was a young woman.  
A young woman with cat-scratches on her hand, slightly wind-tousled chestnut hair, and the same blazer she wore...  
They must have gone to the same school, then, but Yuri was certain she'd...  
  
“E, excuse me. Did you go – karoake-ing with a girl, somewhat... Z, zaftig – “  
  
“What does that mean?”  
  
“Uhmn...”  
  
“Anyway, I used to go sing karoake a bit, but I kind of got tired of the pressure, ehehehe... Right now I was just trying to figure out who'd let this cat get out of hand, and I thought it was a stray, and it got – kind of aggressive...”  
  
“Oh, that does seem like a, a lot of trouble...”  
  
Dark engulfed Yuri and the girl she swore she'd met before, for a moment, whose name played at the tip of her tongue – the alleyway folding around them like a shelter.  
  
“Say... Ori, right?”  
  
“No way! You do know me?! Ah, but that's great, because I'm Sayori! Ehehe! You, wouldn't happen to have any gauze or anything on hand – “  
  
… She did, actually, so it was easy to patch the minor wounds up, after scolding Sayori a little and making sure that she'd go get the punctures properly taken care of, since you never knew what gunk stray animals had on their claws...  
  
If anyone had seen a picture of the tall lady lecturing her nervous peer in an alleyway, what impression would they have taken from it –  
  
_Oh?  
  
_ “No way, the cat's still here! Just a sec!”  
  
Completely forgetting her wounded hand at the glint of fur and feline eyes, Sayori ran further down the alleyway, Yuri loping (a little windedly) behind her.  
It wasn't long until they'd reached the end, where buildings closed off every venue of retreat, and tall grass grew thick from within the concrete, triumphantly stating that this place was its own, and belonged to nature.  
Amidst the tall grass, and an overturned box, the cat and its raggedly-breathing sibling stared back, and Yuri froze.  
  
… Even older, she recognized both of them, after all.  
  
“Oh... Oh...”  
  
She wasn't sure why she was crying; **people were awful,** after all.  
She knew that well; everyone was horrible, and deserved everything they got, and they were all just wretched, but _why_ had they abandoned the cats, then, why, why –  
  
“Gotcha! All right, so you were protecting your sister, huh? Oh, that's no problem. We'll getcha to the vet, and then you're coming with me!”  
  
“What... What are you doing - “  
  
“Adopting them! _Obviously,_ that was my plan in the first place.”  
  
Sayori puffed up her chest and smiled broadly.  
  
“When a cat lashes out at you, that probably means that it's got very little left to lose, or it's trying to protect somebody. And when cats, or people, get like that, I think you have to work a little extra to protect them, too!”  
  
Without thinking, she shrugged off her blazer, and rolled the angrily – then confusedly – mowling cat up in it, as if it were a newspaper.  
  
Confusion faded into a quiet, resigned purr.  
  
Staring triumphantly at the dirty blazer with victorious eyes, eyes the colour of sky, Sayori whirled on the balls of her feet and smiled at Yuri.  
  
“Okay, now if you could give me yours – oh, I mean, if you don't mind getting it kinda dirty, I'll understand, but I don't wanna take my shirt off, so...”  
  
Yuri removed her blazer without thinking.  
  
It was about as easy as Nagura had made it look, actually; and you didn't really forget how to do it.  
The sickly cat stared at her with greying eyes, but they weren't clouded over just yet – and besides.  
  
She saw a reflection of herself in them, and the cat seemed to recognize her – for a moment, just a moment, and that was enough.  
  
Yuri smiled.  
  
“O... Oh, they look a bit like okonomiyaki, don't they... And they're definitely cute enough to eat up...”  
  
“Hey! Don't you dare eat these cats, okay?! I'll protect them both!”  
  
“I'm... I'm not going to devour them, I just thought it was kind of funny, sorry, sorry...”  
  
Somehow, the atmosphere had become incredibly ridiculous, Sayori – the defender of all feline friends – staring down the hunched over and diminished Yuri with a look of righteous fire burning so strongly in her eyes that Yuri had half a mind to simply drop her cat, and run!  
  
… Then, they both laughed, to the tune of quietly purring cats.  
  
“Anyway, can I trouble you to help me bring them home? I live right nearby, so...”  
  
Yuri clapped her hands against one another, and smiled crookedly.  
  
“W, what... A lucky coincidence. I actually was going home for – because of medical reasons, and I live in this area. My only other real friend lives in the other part of town, so... We don't get to see each other as much as we like...”  
  
'Other' was such a fanciful word; it could mean a lot of things.  
  
Run-down.  
Poverty-stricken.  
Decaying.  
Embarrassing.  
Ugly.  
  
… But Yuri thought of it more like a barrier, representing the barrier between Natsuki and herself.  
As long as that barrier existed, neither of them could truly – reach out to one another, the way they might want.  
  
Perhaps, having a friend who lived a bit closer, might – might be the first step to destroying barriers, like that, in the future –  
  
Or it _might_ have been something like that, if Sayori's enthusiasm hadn't been misleading..!  
Living at the exact opposite end of the district, which was easily an hour and a half's walk while carrying cats, Sayori might as well have lived on the moon!  
  
… That was how Yuri felt, wheezing and winded, at least.  
She – loved and hated the country, but she 100% hated how distributed everything was, why wouldn't buses allow ladies with cats in them –  
  
“Aha! Victory! Oh no, don't tell me I forget my keys...”  
  
Shudders wracked her broad shoulders, and Yuri wondered if there might be some final test of her sanity; if Sayori's final words to her would be an 'oops! locked out of my own house! oh, no!' and an embarrassed smile –  
  
But then autumn light glinted off something shiny and metal, and Sayori stabbed the door with her keys, and wrenched it open.  
  
…  
  
_This house...  
  
_ “Yep, I know right! Behold all my cute stuff!”  
  
“It really is... This is fantastic... Is it really all right for me to be here – “  
  
“Well, of course?! You had a gentle enough soul to help cats, so even if I remember you being kinda aloof and... I don't know, you had a bad aura around you, I think we can definitely be friends!”  
  
_There it was again. Was it really this simple?  
  
_ Maybe it didn't matter; and Yuri blew a strand of hair from her eyes as she smiled and unleashed the blazer'd cat upon Sayori's floor.  
It made a half-cogent mowl, and snuggled up to its sibling.  
  
“Vet, who the heck was the vet... Oh, right! It was that Yamamura guy, right?”  
  
Screaming internally at the fact they were going to have to walk all the way back to her place, most likely, (and that she'd never known Yamamura Jr. was a veterinarian?!), Yuri rubbed at her temple and rubbed at the circles under her eyes.  
  
“You're really serious about this, aren't you... Uhmn, I'd be glad to... Help, chip in – fees and such...”  
  
“Oh, would you?! Thanks, I'm not – too great about saving money. Something like this happens and I just have to splurge! Because it's the right thing to do, I mean. Ehehe, that probably sounds a bit stupid – “  
  
“No. Not at all.”  
  
Already, having replaced her blazer without concern to the cat dander and alley-scent surrounding it, Yuri was digging through the thin wallet she carried with her, wherever she went.  
It wasn't like they hadn't been her responsibility _too,_ in part, and she'd let them down once before.  
  
“Ah, great! He can even see them today! Apparently he's got a pick-up truck, so I'm gonna go make some sandwiches, do you want a sandwich?”  
  
“I would... Absolutely love a sandwich – “  
  
“Yes! Wonderful, all right, I'll make two sandwiches! As much as it pains me, please don't feed the cats just yet, so, just – keep an eye on them...”  
  
Sayori disappeared into her kitchen, and kept talking – mostly to herself. It seemed like she was the sort of person to do that, perhaps to keep herself company, or perhaps because of nerves –  
  
Or perhaps because she was lonely, too.  
  
… Yuri decided that it was fine by her, as she waved a plastic 'strand' of 'cat-grass' in front of the less-exhausted cat.  
It didn't spring at it, but glowered intently – like a powerful warrior.  
  
Returning with a tray of cheese and crackers and sliced fruit –  
  
“Sorry, I actually didn't have any bread? And I'm not sure why, I'm sure I froze an entire loaf awhile back, but there's this guy that comes over sometimes and I think he ate it all... Ugh!”  
  
– Her new friend placed the tray in front of them, and took her turn in berating Yuri as she reached a pale finger for a slice of cheese.  
  
“You can't do that! You'll get cat disease, and turn into a cat! No, seriously. Please don't. Wash your hands first, okay...”  
  
Grumbling, Yuri wandered into the bathroom – after several moments of 'playing' hotter/colder with Sayori regarding its location – and took a long look at herself in the mirror.  
  
The sunken wreck of her sockets were a little worse, but she could definitely pass those off as something stylistic, a choice, or just studying hard.  
And beside that...  
Her smile was crooked, and her hair was long, but it didn't feel alien anymore.  
  
She was staring at herself, wasn't she...  
  
“Hmn..!”  
  
It was a smile that persisted as she left the bathroom, hands smelling strongly of rosy soap.  
Yuri took a seat against a beanbag that might've once been a stuffed animal, but had degraded over time into a lumpen sack of fluff.  
  
Across from her, Sayori hesitated – a half-pear raised to her lips.  
  
“Sobby. I got hungry...”  
  
“That's quite fine. Thanks for looking out for me; I'm not the kind of person to remember little things like, like washing your hands if they aren't...”  
  
“Oh, I hear you! I forget this and that, all the time! Every day, really...”  
  
…  
  
“So, so, then... Why were you skipping on school, Sayori...”  
  
“Dunno, Yuri. Why were _you?_ ”  
  
The mention of her name absolutely froze her – though Sayori said it without a hint of malice, still peeling away layers of pearflesh with a single-minded hunger and determination...  
If you only looked at the surface.  
  
“But I – I never mentioned, my...”  
  
“Oh, well, that's me, too. I remember things. People assume I don't, for some reason. Kinda stings, but, I don't think you did it out of some nastiness, or something. I mean, we only met for a few minutes!”  
  
“Y... Yes, that's correct...”  
  
“But, you must be the kind of person to chase after cats a lot, too. I mean, I don't have any scars like those.”  
  
**She'd noticed.  
  
** “H, hahaha...”  
  
The tip of her tongue danced across her teeth, and Yuri wasn't certain what to say.  
Should she say anything?  
If she just denied, that was fine.  
If she just denied everything, there was no way that Sayori could prove anything...  
  
Sayori kept staring at her, with an emotion Yuri had only seen on the face of one other girl, before – _concern.  
  
_ … And Yuri wanted to die.  
She didn't want somebody else to care, she didn't want to be the subject of this – investigation, feel as if a woman she'd only met, truly, a few hours ago, had any right to – any right...  
  
Uncalloused fingers, smooth and only just crisscrossed by bandages, placed themselves against her shaking hands.  
  
“It's okay. I mean, it's the country, right? There sure are a lot of tough animals around!”  
  
“... Oh, yes, they – there surely are, aren't there... And, you wouldn't believe it, but I... I have a habit of getting in fights with them, like – with raccoons, I mean – “  
  
“Well, _don't._ In the future, I mean! But you asked about me, and it's unfair that I've been grilling you, huh... Well, I just kinda forgot about school, today! Ahaha, embarrassing, huh..?”  
  
Sayori placed her knuckle to her head and give it a soft 'clonk' – and Yuri couldn't help but laugh, at first nervously – but then a content, rolling laugh that was almost afraid of sounding too happy.  
Had she just been accepted that easily – again?  
  
And _of course_ Sayori was the type to just forget about going to school, she was – obviously a lot more observant than people picked up on, but, Yuri totally related to that – in her own way, and anyway...  
  
With the clap of her hands together, Sayori let her eyes drift shut.  
They stayed like that for awhile, maybe a moment too long – just before a wide smile split her face, and the cats paused to stare at her, as Yuri did, too.  
  
“More importantly, I'm glad we met up again! This means I can go to school to keep an eye on you and your evil, animal-fighting ways, and maybe you can even keep an eye on _me_ , too, huh?!”  
  
“Th... That sounds lovely!”  
  
It really did.  
Having an excuse to keep going to school – an excuse to keep _caring,_ really – was a wonderful thing, and if she got a chance to know a bit more about this...  
Inexorably cute girl, she – didn't mind that, at all...  
  
“Yeah, I know! I love learning more about new friends, almost as much as I enjoy – oh...”  
  
From outdoors, the familiar jangling of Yamamura Jr.'s truck drew close to a halt.  
Sayori jolted to her feet and nearly ran out the door, Yuri following at a gentle pace.  
  
When the middle-aged man saw her, his expression nearly went white as a sheet...  
Before splitting into a huge grin.  
  
“Oho, look here! Hiya there, Mashiro! Can't believe you're over at a friends, I guess. You really've been doing well, recently, haven't ya!?”  
  
“I cannot complain...”  
  
Yuri replied, with a slight smile – the kind she was growing to like most, because they said nothing and shared nothing...  
But neither did they _push people away.  
  
_ “Right, well. Sayori, take me to the cats.”  
  
_“I'll take you to the cats!”_  
  
This was the sort of exchange you could only really get in the country, Yuri decided; not because there weren't people exactly like this in the city, but because there was something...  
Deeply familiar about it.  
  
Maybe that was nostalgia, too, but the less – harmful kind, in the end...  
  
Apparently, Jr. had been in the house a few times, or at least in the area, or perhaps he simply thought stuffed animals were cool – his reaction was far more subdued than her own had been.  
  
Instead, he immediately turned his attention to the cats on the floor, and a thin frown split his lips.  
  
“Ohrmn. Don't look very healthy, do they...”  
  
“Y-yeah... I'm kinda scared, but we got them here. Yuri and I did. So, let's do our best to try to save them, okay?”  
  
Jr. rolled up his sleeves and nodded tersely, carefully taking both cats away with him – the rubber gloves he'd placed on with a snap seeming to irritate the cats, though not enough that they'd struggled.  
  
“We'll do everything we can, Sayori. Mmn, but – this might be a bit, pricey...”  
  
“ **I'll cover it all.”  
  
** “Woah there, Mashiro! No need to shout! Slow down, a bit.”  
  
But she hadn't been shouting – she knew that much.  
In fact, that was something else that had replaced her inward hatred – but now wasn't the time for that.  
She took a deep breath, and then another – and the smile returned.  
  
Perfect.  
  
“M, my apologies for being so loud. Uhmn... I merely meant to say that I'd be glad... To pay for whatever treatment they need. Whatever the – the outcome is.”  
  
“Ah, well, great! Wish you could just say it like that more often, ahaha! All right, d'you two mind sitting the back of the truck...”  
  
Moments later, they were doing just that – and this, as well, was perhaps one of those unusual things you might only find in the country...  
Or the city, when people wanted to live foolishly for no real reason.  
  
The wind swept her hair too and fro, but they weren't driving particularly fast; she could see the cats mewling at one another from their container in the front seat, the more lively one nuzzling its sister with a look of concern.  
  
“Do you think they're gonna make it?”  
  
Yuri hesitated at Sayori's question, uncertain of what to say.  
But... But Sayori had trusted her, right? So – that meant –  
  
_She knew that if she was honest, Sayori would hate her.  
And if she tried to hide it, those blue eyes would see right through her.  
And she couldn't run, couldn't just throw herself from the flatbed and roll against the ground like, like some ridiculous villain –  
  
_ “They'll die. Y, you... Just have to accept that possibility. Everything does, because... The world is awful.”  
  
Yuri stared to her side, and barely spoke above a whisper.  
  
As always, she'd fucked up.  
  
“... I don't entirely disagree, ehehehe...”  
  
“Really..?”  
  
“But that's why I can't accept that. I think – just accepting that'd make me weaker, y'know? And, I'm already kinda floofy and weak, so, I wanna be stronger! And – until that moment comes, I have to be strong for the cats, right...”  
  
Yuri gulped back air, and wasn't sure what to say.  
  
Her eyes had slid back first, taking in the unyielding tone from the otherwise nervous-seeming girl, her fingers pressed against one another like a charm, or some kind of spell.  
  
But Sayori's voice carried an incredible weight to it, a resolve that wasn't going to be broken by Yuri's equally unshakable pessimism.  
Or if it did falter, it would be – because of the world, not because of a girl.  
  
It wasn't a grimace or a frown, but her smile was always jagged, like serrations, like a –  
  
“That's... That's very mature, you... You know. I wish I could be – like that.”  
  
_And maybe she had been, once.  
  
_ “B, but... If you feel so strongly, that means even though I still believe what I said, I'll stand by you. I don't want to sound... Wishy-washy, but... There's only one thing that I think gives me, gives me courage...”  
  
_She'd already decided on that.  
Natsuki gave her courage, and anger, and hope.  
So Sayori would too.  
If she ever fell back down into that place, and not even steel and fire could save her, she'd cut her way back to them.  
  
And if something hurt them, well – she'd...  
  
_ “Oh, that's sweet, Yuri! But I don't think you're... Ahaha, wishy-washy! Everybody has their own contradictions, after all. A bitter side to their sweetness, or a tasty side to their sourness!”  
  
The truck rolled to a stop, and they both went quiet.  
It was a quiet clinic, out in the countryside; the place that usually saw farm animals, or family pets, and the latter – not so terribly often.  
  
Sayori and Jr. went in, but Yuri waited outside; because she'd realised how squeamish the thought of animals suffering, _again_ , made her, because she couldn't bear to be proven right yet again, because, at the end – maybe she couldn't be Sayori's strength –  
And she very much wanted to smoke, but her discipline held; and she just watched the lighter flicker, again and again.  
  
Yuri hid it with a practised ease as Sayori came out, lost in thought – only to see her, and stare straight at her with an unreadable expression...  
That became a beautiful smile.  
  
“Looks like everything's going to be a-okay!”


	15. XV. The Little Prince

“I hate winter!”  
  
Natsuki growled, and Yuri wondered if she really _hated_ winter, or if she just hated being cooped up all the time.  
The three of them had sort of drifted together into some sort of lunch-time cabal, and although at first she'd felt it might feel a bit too much...  
  
“Awww, but I love winter! Everything's so cold and sharp and jagged...”  
  
Sayori's response was to stare dreamily out the window, sighing (in a way that Yuri had to admit, she found a little romantic).  
  
“The time of year when everything melts and feels as if it's gonna be reborn... I think there's a really deep purity in that! Or, maybe purity is the wrong word? Hope! I think winter is hopeful!”  
  
“Yeah, but Yuri probably just thinks that it's gloomy and full of doom or something. Right? Yuri? Back me up – “  
  
Natsuki's last comment had the hint of a whine, and Yuri smiled maliciously in reply.  
  
“... A, actually... I rather find this the best time of year because it's dark and gloomy. True evil marches under the banner of – of sunlight.”  
  
“Oh, c'mon, that was half of what I was saying, anyway – you two are miserable. I'm gonna go barf!”  
  
“D, don't forget to clean up afterwards!”  
  
Natsuki stuck her tongue out as she left – though she'd been returning early to the home ec workshop, to get away with baking and cooking even when the rest of the students treated it like an easy, optional elective.  
She really – loved baking, Natsuki...  
  
“Oh, anyway! Yuri! I wanted to talk to it when Natsuki was here, too, oh, no... But, I'll ask you first then, I guess! What would you think about joining the track and field team!”  
  
“M, me... Ahaha, that's a cute joke, Sayori...”  
  
“It is not a joke! Awww, c'mon! The swim team is gonna beat us this year, everyone takes swimming, and I bet if you really threw yourself into it, you could be a decent runner..!”  
  
Yuri smiled, a little melancholically.  
  
“P... Perhaps. I don't hate the idea, Sayori. But I'm declining, full-stop. I do like – that, that you'd enjoy spending time with me, but, anyway... Don't you think I'd just – bring down the atmosphere, somewhat...”  
  
“No! No I do not think that, geeze!”  
  
Sayori winced, and looked away.  
  
“You aren't really like that at all. I mean, you kind of are, but you're actually really fun to be around, and I just think it'd be nice to have something we can all do together, and – “  
  
“Oh... You're thinking of Natsuki, too...”  
  
They both went silent at that, for entirely different reasons – _probably,_ Yuri corrected herself.  
Even if there reasons were different, they'd both noticed it – when she arrived a little later to class, and was exceptionally on edge...  
  
“A-huh! Just kinda a nice little thing we can do together! Something energetic and fun and we can practise and you can buy us steak afterwards – “  
  
“W, wait a minute, I never agreed to...”  
  
“Steak, and then fried apple tarts – oh, sorry. I got distracted there, for a minute! I know it's not up to me to force your hand, but... C'mon, Yuri! Please!..”  
  
Yuri lay back in her seat at the lonely cafeteria – wondering, for a minute, why it always seemed so empty, these days. Indeed, everything almost felt like an afterthought – like the once lively hallways were closing in around them, constricting everything that she'd started to grow used to, but...  
Why...  
  
Her brow raised, she managed to smile.  
  
“I'll... Consider it, but no promises. Actually, I think I'm going to... To give you a task, Sayori. If you can convince me that it'd be fun to join the – track team, I'll do it. But, then again...”  
  
“Oh, no, this sounds so frightening...”  
  
“Hmhmn..! If you don't, you'll have to read _this!_ ”  
  
The volume she slid across the table was worn, and much-loved.  
It was one of her particular favourites, and she admitted freely that her tone had been a little petulant, half-expecting Sayori to roll her eyes, or say that she should focus on something else, or...  
  
Sayori took the book readily, humming – and her voice was quite sweet, too – as she did.  
And she immediately flipped to the 'about the author' page, reading with furrowed brow.  
  
“Can't say I care for this kind of guy... I hope he writes better than he lived...”  
  
“He, he had every reason to follow his own beliefs, and live by his own rules – “  
  
“Oho, a touchy spot appears! Don't worry, I actually really like broadening my horizons! You might not know this but I read a lot! Mostly poems, though. I like poetry, its – very simple, but very complex...”  
  
Yuri stood, half-raised from her chair – stunned.  
  
Slowly, she slumped back into it, shoulders hunched over, and uncertain of what she should say.  
And she knew that it wasn't that unusual, that ridiculous for somebody to share the passions she'd held, but yet –  
  
“Where... Where were you...”  
  
“... Yuri?”  
  
“Where were you, four years ago...”  
  
“I-I-I, I was right here?! Yuri, please don't cry!”  
  
“Don't worry. I'm not going to cry. It's more funny, really, than anything else. Uh, uhmn... It's all right if you don't care for his style at all. But... _But I think he was the only human who ever lived who got it, who really got it._ ”  
  
She had expected anything, anything at all, except laughter.  
  
Not mean-spirited laughter, controlling and cruel.  
Not uncertain laughter, or nervous laughter, or sharp laughter.  
  
Just – happy, amused laughter, that bubbled with mirth and good cheer – like Sayori.  
  
“Gosh, well, I guess that makes sense. Of _course_ you'd have a favourite author and it'd turn out to be some weird male model, or whatever – “  
  
“He, he, isn't – that was just a period in his life – “  
  
“No, I totally understand. You're just... Surprisingly taken in by that sort of thing, huh?”  
  
Fingernails ground into the cafeteria table, and Yuri wanted to laugh to, to say of _course_ she was and how she thought about it all the time, but not just with boys, but because it kept you alive, and proved it to you, and even when it was awful then you were real, not – but, that wasn't what he deserved, or his works deserved, or Sayori deserved –  
  
And Sayori would've just realised how disgusting Yuri was if she'd commented on it, so...  
So...  
  
“Sometimes...”  
  
Yuri commented quietly, winding her fingers around her hair until their pale white was completely destroyed by them.  
  
“I knew it! Well, even though you haven't won, can I exchange books with you? This one reminds me of you and Natsuki! I think it's really, really cute! Like both of you! Uh, but don't tell her I told you that...”  
  
Sayori fumbled around her bookbag and pulled out an offering, and Yuri's heart soared when she recognized the French in the title; even if it was, she admitted to herself, a little pretentious of her, just a bit.  
  
“Oh, but... de Saint-Exupéry... I feel like I should know him, but I don't... Oh, this is going to be... Exciting, Sayori! Hmn, hmn, I think this is!..”  
  
Maybe the best gift she'd ever gotten, even if it were only something to borrow.  
  
For a minute, it was Sayori's turn to be stunned – and then her smile nearly split her face, and she quietly punched the air, before withdrawing her tiny fist to her side and just, smiling, like the sun itself.  
  
“Wow, I never realised you were such a fan of literature, Yuri! Go ahead and tell me what you think! I'll try to get through this, but I read – pretty slowly, so I hope...”  
  
“Please, don't – don't rush yourself. Take as long as you like, even a year or more! It's – actually, sometimes taking that long with a book is, I think it's how you know you really loved it. Some of the ones I've – cherished...”  
  
She trailed off, waiting for the command to stop rambling, to stop making sound.  
… It didn't come.  
  
“Are you just gonna space out or what – “  
  
“I'm not, not spacing out! I'm actually fine, _thank_ you very much – “  
  
“Oh, no! Scary Yuri is back! Protect me, Natsuki, Natsuki, come back and save me!..”  
  
Sayori replied with a smile, pawing at her face as if to ward off Yuri.  
But Yuri simply snorted and...  
And felt _happy.  
  
_ “Mmn, well. I'm very passionate about this, you see. I think a lot of people don't actually read. I mean, they read, but they don't _read._ Mmn, well...”  
  
The conversation ended up continuing throughout class, throughout the day, and turned into a long and meandering walk home; left uncontinued until finally, gloriously, they'd been able to win some free time for themselves.  
  
“... People... Want things to be simple. Not like – like the sort of things Natsuki likes, I mean...”  
  
“Sure. Simple isn't bad. I think if you start thinking like that, you end up writing off all sorts of things. Simple words, simple joys, the warmth of a hug on a cold day. That'd be an awful way to live.”  
  
“R, right! I mean, more... Uhmn. People take what should be complex, and often subtle, and reduce it to a single thing. Like – I wonder how many people just stare at our eyes, and file us away by that – “  
  
“BAHAHAHAHA!”  
  
Sayori doubled over with laughter; they'd reached a small creek in the woods, one that'd probably flooded over, recently – and now could only manage a small trickle.  
  
“Oh-kay, I get what you were trying to say, there, but who just looks at somebody's eyes, anyway? They'd have to be really lonely to just make a decision about somebody based on their eye-colour! I mean, aaaaa – “  
  
Inhaling deeply, Sayori puffed up her cheeks and leaned against a tree, one eyebrow raised.  
Her free hand made a sharp gun gesture at Yuri, who blushed without thinking.  
  
“Morning there, babe. Nice purples you got there. You wanna go play some videogames – “  
  
“... I hate, video games...”  
  
“WHAT NO WAY THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE, NOBODY HATES VIDEOGAMES – “  
  
“Sayori, you're frightening me, don't look at me with eyes like that – “  
  
“Oh, back to eyes now, are we... Wow, I guess I'm just too intense for my own good! Ehehe! Okay, but seriously, are you – for real? I assumed somebody well-off like you'd be a huge fan of obscure series, and...”  
  
“W, well... I like text adventures. And BBS games. And, awhile back, my...”  
  
Homesickness overwhelmed her, and she almost felt dizzy.  
She hadn't seen her parents for years. It wasn't unusual; she shouldn't feel so... Sad about it.  
  
But she did.  
  
Inhale. Exhale.  
  
“... My father and I used to play this game where you, woke up in a crypt... Uhmn, you're an evil wizard... And you have to – fight to reclaim your evil legacy...”  
  
“That sounds kind of cool! I like pretty much every kind of game though! My best friend and I, we play games together all the time! And I'm pretty good, if I say so myself!”  
  
She looked so proud, and Yuri was terribly jealous of the oft-mentioned, never-seen best friend.  
...But more than that, more than even her own bitter jealousy...  
  
How happy she was, for that moment of genuine joy in Sayori's eyes, the little sky-accented blue moment where there was no greater complexity than her own happiness; and it was surprisingly rare, Yuri found, so...  
She cherished it.  
  
“Uhmn, well – can I double-back to my original point, for a bit?”  
  
“Be my guest! Do you mind if I take my shoes off and just kinda stretch out in the water, a river in winter seems lucky, even if it's just a trickle – “  
  
“Oh, please. Just don't make yourself sick, all right...”  
  
“I promise!”  
  
Sayori responded with gusto, all but dangling her soon-bare feet into the cold trickle of water.  
The air wasn't too cool yet, however; it felt as if the sky hadn't decided it was truly winter yet, and hadn't decided to punish them with snow and ice.  
  
“You, you know... I really think you're unique in how... How much you'd enjoy the duality of things. There was this philosopher, uhmn – “  
  
“Heeeeeey, you can't ramble about your point and then abandon it. Yuri...”  
  
“Oh! Oh, sorry. Thank you, though! Mmn, well...”  
  
Although she wasn't about to join Sayori in cooling herself in the water, Yuri squatted down amongst the frost-kissed grass, and stared up at the sky.  
The celestial eyelid of the sun was shut, welded against the darkened sky; and she sighed.  
  
“I like stripping back the layers that make people complex. One by one, learning who... Who they truly are... I think that's one of the most beautiful things that you can learn, or share.”  
  
“When you say it like that... It sounds kinda grody...”  
  
“No, it isn't! It's the exact opposite of grody, it's absolutely beautiful..!”  
  
Yuri bayed, plaintively, and Sayori gave her a wry, sad smile.  
  
“Maybe that's how you see it. For me, I'd say it sounds an awful lot like burdening someone with your own worries and cares. I'd hate to know that other people got to know me better, and just – didn't like what they saw...”  
  
_The icy reflection of the water was a mirror to those blue eyes; and Yuri had a million ways she wanted to express empathy, to show sympathy, to try to convey that she **knew** that feeling, all too well.  
Because they were the same in that way, had been in the same place and why couldn't she just share her thoughts,  
why couldn't she trust her, why –  
  
_ Quietly, she knelt down in the grass, fanning her skirts around her, and let herself down once more.  
  
Not that it mattered, in the end.  
  
“I... I suppose I understand that view. Well, let's go to a more positive topic, then...”  
  
“Okay! I'm always up for a change in topic! I kinda like feeling happy more than feeling down, anyway, even if I think it's – really important to remember that... That everyone feels a little down, from time to time...”  
  
“Do you have any favourite games, Sayori?”  
  
Sayori frowned pensively, exhaling cool air that refused to stay visible for long.  
Then, she shivered, withdrew her feet from the creek, patted them down, and doffed her socks and shoes with remarkable speed.  
  
“Guess I like games that make you think. Not, like, that's the point of them. I think often, that's done really poorly. A lot of old adventure games kinda tried for that, but failed?”  
  
Yuri's eyes lit up.  
  
“Oh! I, I have played a few old adventure games! I think the ones where you're exploring alien worlds, in various states of dolorous decay, are the best. Seeing the artist using their vision to the fullest, in a state like dreaming...”  
  
“Aha, _of course_ you'd like visions and vistas like that, Yuri! You're kind of predictable, except when you aren't.”  
  
“That – oddly, I like that. Thank you, Sayori...”  
  
“My pleasure! Uhmn, but where was I... Urgh, I feel like _I_ had a point and it was really poignant, I hate it when this happens – “  
  
“We were talking about – you were talking about failure..?”  
  
“YES! Thankyousomuch, Yuri! Okay, well. And there are two problems with that; one, it leaves a bad taste in a lot of people's mouths, so – they never even give experimental games a try, which is sad! And two, maybe even worse... Now people don't even want to try to make games like that.”  
  
“I can't imagine the... Plebeians would even buy such things, so it's probably for the best...”  
  
She half-snorted, half-snarled, and Sayori burst into another gigglefit.  
  
“Oh, the _plebeians!_ What, who do you think you are, Yuri?! I – sometimes, when you get angry, you're surprisingly cute!”  
  
“... I, I am...”  
  
And she had no idea how to process that.  
Fortunately, hiding your response is often as simple as talking over it – and that, in the presence of her friends, she could manage.  
  
“Well, I – I am angry. Anger is a lot of who I am, Sayori. I hate... How stupid, people... I mean, it ties back to what I was saying about people not reading, and it's just – the world is full of it. Ignorance. Proud ignorance. And if you – if you genuinely love something, your enthusiasm... You should just shut up about it, shouldn't you...”  
  
Her shoulders shook, but she wasn't crying, or laughing, even – she felt _revelrously_ happy, because it felt _so good_ to admit this...  
Even if Sayori did seem a bit disappointed.  
  
“That's not healthy to carry around in you, Yuri. I mean, maybe you'd be happier in the city – “  
  
“ _Hah._ ”  
  
“Awww... Just don't – don't cherish misanthropy, okay? That's – I think you'd become the sort of person I wouldn't like if you were, really misanthropic, so...”  
  
Gently, Yuri placed her hand against Sayori's shoulder.  
  
“... I'm not a misanthrope.”  
  
Sayori stared up at her, perhaps fully realising how tall she was – and Yuri at once loved and hated her terrible posture for how it concealed it, kept her pulled in on herself until suddenly she was close to people, too close to them – as it always was.  
  
“But, I – I love the people I love so _terribly dearly._ And – I know it must seem as if I hate a lot of people, and I – maybe I do. But one day... I want to be someone who loves them, like I love everyone I care about, so much... I just want to – to love...”  
  
Her words trailed off, and Sayori's gentle laughter as she combed through Yuri's hair felt – pleasant.  
Incredibly pleasant...  
  
“Now I'm not worried about you, at least. Whew! You sure do have a lot of passion in your heart, though. I bet one day, somebody'll be swept away by it!”  
  
Yuri's face turned into a horrible mush of red, and she jolted to her feet, nearly bashing her head against an overhanging branch.  
It made a painful 'twang' and she subconsciously took a few steps back, nervously brushing dirt from her hair as she did.  
  
“That... That's definitely not true, so, so don't...”  
  
“Mwahaha! It is true, it _is!”  
  
_ Sometimes, chases are incredibly elabourate affairs that have two parties fighting against the clock to catch up with one another; in the hope of preventing some tragedy, enacting justice, or simple racing in the name of fun.  
  
Other times, however...  
  
Yuri ran as fast as her gangly form would let her, wheezing after the first few steps.  
_Even if she hadn't smoked for some time, she decided she was going to blame all of it on tobacco. It certainly wasn't her diet of instant noodles and ice cream, it couldn't be –  
  
_ Behind her, Sayori wasn't exactly running herself, but walking at a brisk speed and stopping occasionally, to theatrically warm up.  
  
It seemed she really was good at this – especially when, with a girlish laugh, she _burst into form and started racing after her.  
_ Even though she ran as fast as she had in ages, and perhaps ever, Yuri's wobbly knees gave out on her, the long skirts she favoured had never been designed for physical activity, and she doubled over, panting.  
  
Sayori stopped behind her, and bopped her on the head.  
  
“Yay! Now I've proven that somebody is going to love you! But... I've also proven that Yuri isn't a good match for the track team... Ugh, this is the worst...”  
  
“Please... Do not... Refer... To... Me... In the... Third... Person...”  
  
“Sorry, Yuri!”  
  
“F... Fine... I'm sorry I let you down... Sayori...”  
  
Laughing, even through her clenched teeth, Yuri greedily accepted Sayori's soft fingers as her friend helped pull her to her feet.  
  
“You didn't let me down. It just happens, doesn't it... Things get out of hand and I – I'm not exactly a physical girl, at the end of the day. I mean... In the past, maybe, but... You'd have to, hmn...”  
  
“Entice you with some kind of trophy! A gold trophy, that looks like a dead writer!”  
  
“... N, no, I categorically deny that one...”  
  
“Awwww...”  
  
Sayori clucked her tongue, but seemed to be happy, all the same.  
And the weather was getting colder – and she shivered, pulling her arms against herself the moment they'd fell free of Yuri –  
  
“Think I'm gonna go home and take a long bath and read this, and, well, I'll probably forget about it pretty soon, but I'll definitely get to it at some point, okay?”  
  
“O... Okay! That sounds like a good plan. I might – do the same, myself..!”  
  
They decided to part ways at Yuri's house; long after the tangled web of underbrush and frost-kissed scenery had disappeared behind them.  
Yuri found herself waving, once, and then quickly diving back into her house before the Yamamura family had a chance to initiate conversation.  
She'd almost gotten the locks down to a rhythm, and she loved how efficient that felt –  
  
Her bag fell to the ground, and Yuri tumbled to the floor, her hair falling about her in a mess of dark burgundy.  
Strands touched the dust against the ground and traced familiar arteries, and the ceiling...  
  
The ceiling stared back at her, as always, as ever.  
  
Sighing dreamily, she freed the book Sayori had given her from her own bag; glad that she was finally finding new friends to replace the ones who'd come before.  
But this particular book...  
  
It turned out she'd expected something a little different, from it.  
  
A slightly-used cover depicted idyllic terraced farms against the backdrop of a hill; and against the cover rose a monstrously old plane, the kind that made a terrible racket and belched fire and scraped metal –  
  
Yuri's fingers hesitated – it almost felt, like...  
  
Like an omen...  
  
She read the entire novel in the night, as she often did with novels.  
  
The way it depicted the struggles and bonds between men, and the eternal search for – and pillars of – friendship were remarkable in a way that she could not, had never even began to imagine.  
And Sayori had thought this resembled her, and Natsuki...  
  
Letting the volume fall against her face and shielding her from the ceiling's ever-watchful gaze, Yuri let herself imagine the roar of motors and the vagaries of flight.  
  
Though she'd rather fly without constraints, or with the brittle wings of a moth, something about the author's love for flight, for machinery, for the unconstrained freedom they offered – it set her heart on fire, a little...  
  
But perhaps, like a moth, it was very easy for her heart to burn.  
  
Still...  
  
A crooked smile peaked out from under the edge of the novel, and Yuri sighed, dreamily.  
  
What would it be like to fly, to be truly free?  
Did she want to fly away from this place – or...  
Had she, at long last...  
  
She fell asleep against the hardwood floor, with the book balanced against her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though the chapter titles are more a 'mixtape' of Yuri's books rather then anything else, this one plays a bit with your expectations. The book Sayori gave Yuri is actually a different book by that author; can you figure out what it is..?


	16. XVI. The Wild Geese

Rain flooded the little district by the theatre, what Yuri had come to consider the 'touristy' part of town.  
It wasn't as if there was anything especially notable about it; but people came all the way from the city to watch movies, go karaoke, or visit – a _hotel,_ in a place that just wasn't their home city.  
  
… Now, the three of them were doing much the same.  
  
It'd been Sayori's idea that the three of them needed to have a 'cool bonding experience!' which – well, she and Natsuki had stopped quarreling to protest the idea, only to subtly agree with Sayori when alone.  
  
Because – because it sounded nice.  
  
Yuri'd spent the day nervously doing and re-doing her hair; trying to get the constant split ends and stray hairs to stay put, even though she somehow doubted other people really noticed, in the end.  
  
She did everything on her own, these days – but it would have been nice to have Mrs. Yamamura help with things, or give her a second thought...  
  
The girl in the mirror stared back at her, haughtily.  
  
Perhaps the girl in the mirror was very beautiful; she'd never really thought of herself that way, and wasn't even certain that it'd been what she'd wanted _most.  
_ And Yuri was happy with – with all of herself, mostly, but...  
  
Still. _Still.  
  
_ All across her skin, there was so much that was _wrong._  
The mole on her collarbone that wasn't even cute, for example.  
Not that she'd been relying on her own methods to keep herself under control, but...  
  
With a sigh, she brushed back her hair for the last time, and rose to get dressed.  
  
It'd been quite some time since she'd had a casual event with friends; and Yuri wasn't exactly certain what _casual_ meant, anymore. She sometimes wore clothes around the house, and they sometimes made sense, but –  
  
Generally, her uniform was comfortable and appropriate.  
She'd long since stopped dressing for the point of attracting attention.  
  
But that meant – what on earth was she supposed to wear..?  
  
So began her exodus from her house, garbed in he baggy sweater she'd picked up from the antique store, while looking for an elusive script she'd wanted to brag to Natsuki about.  
  
It was an omen that, as she did, Mr. and Mrs. Yamamura, who were sitting in their lawn and watching the yard intently, as people sometimes did, in the country...  
Both of them turned towards her, and Mr. Yamamura laughed brusquely, while his wife managed to stifle hers, a bit.  
  
Yuri's brows knit against one another, and she frowned.  
  
“D... Don't tell me that I wore the sweater backwards...”  
  
“Er, s'not that! It's just... Young people, today...”  
  
Mrs. Yamamura replied, pressing her fingers against one another.  
And she looked as if she had quite a lot more she wanted to say, but was resisting the urge to say it.  
  
… For once, Yuri found herself feeling indolent and headstrong, and she snorted back air and stomped off, ignoring further laughter from the two of them.  
She could wear what she pleased, and even if it was a bit unusual, she wasn't going to be late – trying to, to show up her friends for some minor fun little thing...  
  
But she kept attracting attention wherever she went; and the roving pressure of wandering eyes felt like it'd make her head collapse on herself.  
  
She hated it –  
  
**Or loved it; she wasn't sure which.  
  
** Not that it mattered – she wasn't here for the sake of the middle-aged jogger and his skin-tight shorts, coated in sweat; or the gossiping housewives by the bus station, their murderous glares as sharp as knives.  
  
Yuri glanced up at the sky, running her tongue along her teeth.  
  
Around her, the pressure – that same pressure she always felt before a storm – felt like it might be anywhere...  
_Everywhere._  
But there were no clouds in the sky; just a gentle blue, in every direction.  
  
Perhaps it was just her gloomy nature, or her hidden desire for storms...  
  
Laughing at herself, Yuri swept her hair back, nervously tapping her feet against the concrete.  
_Natsuki should've been here, by now..._  
If she'd been held up by her father again –  
  
“Hiya Yu... Ri...”  
  
Sayori had arrived a bit before Natsuki, and probably a bit before herself.  
She had the look of someone who'd gotten there so early that all her enthusiasm had melted and clung to the ground like sludge, leaving her to wander around in a daze.  
  
But she was wearing a really cute outfit, a blue jacket with all sorts of pins and things that Yuri didn't recognize, probably – band merchandise or something like that, cute sneakers, just – exceptionally cute...  
  
And that cuteness didn't reach the incredulous expression on her face.  
  
First, Yuri knew well that Sayori was perhaps the definition of a _good friend_ ; someone who tried to keep your mood up, even when you were being stubborn.  
Second, she'd obviously been happy and re-energized just at the sight of Yuri; which lead to the third factor, and the heart of the matter...  
  
Sayori's lips pulled over her teeth in an attempt to smother her own laughter – futilely, as it turned out.  
A nervous titter escaped, then another, and then Sayori had doubled over laughing, laughing so hard that tears poured from her sky-blue eyes, laughed as she apologised for laughing.  
  
“I, I, I don't see what's so funny..!”  
  
Yuri fumed, having a suspicion she _might_ know what Sayori found funny, but that she _didn't agree_ with it.  
  
Pausing to wipe some of her tears away, and having the good grace to look remorseful, Sayori sighed and bounded over to Yuri – she'd been listening to one of those 'walkmen' or, whatever they were called, and was still running the cords through her fingers.  
  
“Er, well... Yuri! Please don't take this the wrong way, but wearing leggings as pants...”  
  
“ **HUMPH.** ”  
  
Replied Yuri, bitterly, and Sayori burst into laughter once more.  
This time, she didn't even try to hide her mirth, and Yuri purposely turned to the side, her hair cast behind her as she quietly sulked...  
  
Well, at _first_ , she was quiet.  
But how could anyone let such a cruel insult fly?!..  
  
“Some people would say that... W... Wearing what's comfortable for you is a sign of maturity, you know. That elegance is all about...”  
  
“Oho, I get you..! Elegance is about looking like you're a fifty-year old housewife, who doesn't care what the world thinks about you! You just want to check your stocks, watch your soaps, and be yourself! That's really independent, Yuri!”  
  
… It was very mild, but Sayori _could_ have a dry humour about her, when she wanted to...  
  
“Yes, well... At, at least I don't look like a child. What are all those _badges_ for, anyway? Are you in some... Weird paramilitary SDF unit, or, do you just like being weighed down by – by excess metal...”  
  
Sayori stopped giggling, and parted her lips – murmuring a quiet 'oooo!' that echoed throughout the early spring air, windless and free.  
Her hands clapped together, and she smiled brightly.  
  
“Actually, a lot of these are just bands I like. They're not all mine, I mean... Some of them – well, that's a long story. But I just think it looks kind of cool, don't you? Anyway, since we three girls are going on an adventure, I wanted to be ready to fight..!”  
  
“F... Fight?!”  
  
Yuri's eyes widened, and Sayori nodded fiercely, punching the air with – well, it was a rather sloppy uppercut.  
And Yuri wanted to _correct_ her, but felt it would be needlessly rude...  
It wasn't as if _her_ attempts had been any better.  
  
The thought wasn't exactly bitter, though she wondered if it was too late to pursue – some kind of physical hobby. Jogging?  
No.  
Not really good for - back problems, or so she'd heard...  
  
Dancing...  
Ha, you had to be _young_ for that.  
  
Boxing – maybe, but had she smoked too much to –  
  
“Yuri? Earth to Yuri... Oh, no, we lost her...”  
  
“Oh! Oh, oh – I'm here! Sorry... I just got distracted by the sun glimmering off that one. K I H O? I'm afraid I don't get it...”  
  
“Sorry, I can't help you! Like almost all of these – it just found its way on to my jacket by magic and good luck!”  
  
Her wide smile was infectious, and Yuri found herself smiling – just a little.  
After all, Sayori'd planned this thing, forced her and Natsuki into it against their better efforts, and all in the name of making them better friends!..  
  
The _least_ she could do was _smile.  
  
_ “Well... Uhmn, I don't mind. I'm – I'm a little worried about Natsuki, though. She's not usually late, unless things are a bit rough at her end, so...”  
  
“Let's wait just a little bit, to give her a chance, to...”  
  
Sayori trailed off, every word a bit glummer than the one before it.  
Once they'd tried to drag Natsuki out of her family obligations, but it'd just – embarrassed her, terribly, and she'd made them promise not to do it again.  
  
… Even though, Yuri thought bitterly, with a familiar and **wonderful** bile in her throat, that man was such a coward.  
When anyone not in his sphere challenged him, he crumpled and fell backwards and stank like gin.  
  
~~and it wouldn't take much effort, to...  
  
~~ “YoooOOoooo! Sorry I'm late! Ah, would you believe that _I_ actually messed something up? I know, I know – craz... Ee... Eeeh?!”  
  
“Stop. You are forbidden from criticising me. I... Allowed Sayori to, but I _refuse_ – “  
  
“Hey, Sayori. What the heck happened to Yuri, and why is she wearing a sweater when it's not that cold out and, and, andandand – “  
  
“Well...”  
  
Mumbled Sayori, trying (and failing) not to laugh, again.  
  
“I guess neither of us is going to be seen as, er, as brave as Yuri, huh? Not that it's a bad thing, Yuri – “  
  
“They're comfortable..!”  
  
Yuri half-sniffed, half-growled, and Natsuki snorted back her own laughter, having finally come to terms with the sight.  
  
“C'mon, Yuri. You look like you should be wrapping up some kind of – exercise show...”  
  
Natsuki's weak jab didn't line up with the hearty, toothy, grin on her face, and clearly wasn't meant to draw some kind of fight out of her – this time, at least.  
  
Smiling at that, Yuri took in the backwards baseball cap, the tie-dyed long-sleeved shirt, and the very...  
Colourful shorts.  
  
Well, _perhaps_ they were _all_ a bit strange, then.  
That – That was absolutely fine.  
More to the point...  
  
“I don't hate exercise, so... Maybe, maybe I'll ditch you two and make my name amongst the stars...”  
  
“Oh...”  
  
Natsuki frowned, and Yuri bit her lip.  
  
“I! I, I didn't mean I actually wanted to run out on the – the two of you! That was a weak joke, sorry...”  
  
Quickly, Sayori interposed herself between the two of them, having seized the moment with her usual zest for life.  
Placing a hand against each of their shoulders and pulling them against herself, her eyes absolutely shone.  
  
“Don't fight, you two! We're gonna have an adventure today, which means – no fighting! Not even once!”  
  
Yuri wanted to interject that she could fight if she wanted to; that she _enjoyed_ fighting with Natsuki, at least when it wasn't too serious, and when they could both brush it off with laughter.  
Too many smiles sometimes felt – strained, or forced.  
  
But Sayori was always genuine, and truly wanted them to be happy. It was evident in her nervous smile, the little way she bit her lip, and the way she _clung_ to them, perhaps because she worried they'd have at one another if she let go –  
  
Or perhaps because _she_ needed someone to hold onto, too.  
  
Either way, Natsuki grinned, eyes shut, and ran her hand rakishly over her short hair – before wiggling out of Sayori's grasp and taking a few steps backwards, arms out to the sky.  
  
(A few wandering people glanced at her, curiously, but Natsuki ignored them.)  
  
“Sayori! Don't say any more, okay? We're not fighting, we're just here to have fun! And fun... Is what we're gonna have!”  
  
“I wouldn't mind having a bit more than... Fun...”  
  
Yuri murmured with a sly smile, and Natsuki growled her from behind clenched teeth, stomping forward with all the pathos that only someone so small could muster.  
  
“Oh, yeah, I'm _sure_ you want to just sulk and recite gothic poetry and talk about your feelings and all that – “  
  
“Not as much as I want to mess up your pretty little head – “  
  
“Please... The two of you...”  
  
Sayori began, but trailed off as Natsuki and Yuri burst into laughter – Yuri leaning down to bop her forehead against Natsuki's own.  
Wiping the trace laughter from her eyes, Yuri gave Sayori a gentle smile; one that she hoped carried a fraction of the brightness that Sayori always seemed to have ready for _them,_ for the two of them, when they needed it.  
  
“I promise... We're just having fun, Sayori. So...”  
  
“Okay! Well, ehehe, I've got so much planned! First thing's first, we've gotta go see a movie!”  
  
The movie itself was forgettable, and though she hadn't set foot in a movie theatre for some time, Yuri was surprised how _fun_ it was.  
Not because of the movie which – didn't feature any of the elements she liked in film, at all.  
  
But because between Natsuki's loud, angry popcorn-munching and sulphurous mutterings, and Sayori's barely-held whispers of ' _aawwwwww..._ ' and ' _oh, no!_ ' and ' _you can do it!_ ' at every pivotal moment...  
  
It was absolutely wonderful.  
  
… And she may have chuckled a little whenever the heroes found themselves in peril, just a bit...  
  
The places here were never crowded, of course, so it was _almost_ like the theatre belonged to the three of them, and as the credits closed on the Space Governor shedding a single tear for those lost in the Great Robot Uprising, three pairs of feet hung over three unused seats.  
  
“Iunno. I feel like the idea of a robot uprising is stupid. I mean, the robots are smart enough to basically be humans, right? So... Why not just live as humans? It-it's not like they _have_ to live the way their parents taught them!”  
  
“Oh, Natsuki! Do you think the robot-crafters... Robot-makers... Er, the science guys were the robots' parents? That's really cute!”  
  
“Hey, no, it isn't cute...”  
  
Natsuki blushed and turned away.  
  
Yuri whistled to herself, and fiddled with her hair – watching the endless stream of names cycle on against the screen.  
  
“... For... For what it's worth, I feel like the plot wasn't really about the robots. We weren't meant to care about them, or view them as anything but simple automatons.”  
  
“That's fucking stupid.”  
  
Natsuki growled, her blush evapourating in an instant.  
Waving her fingers in the air as if the director might be able to see (and appreciate!) her (obviously superior!) knowledge, she continued –  
  
“I don't think there's a person alive, even a space robot, that would want to feel like a set piece. What's that say about the director, huh? Probably a real jerk. That's what it says...”  
  
She eyed Yuri up carefully, and said – quietly...  
  
“But let me guess, you disagree and actually there's some _artsy_ reason for the choice, right? Some metaphor about free will, or, I don't know... The duality of – “  
  
“You two..!”  
  
Sayori half-yelled to the empty theatre, and if there'd been people around, it might have caused a commotion.  
But; there wasn't anybody present, and either way...  
  
“No, actually. I – I don't disagree at all.”  
  
“ _What, really?!”  
  
_ It was funny how wide Natsuki's eyes went – and very _cute_ , but she probably would've resisted that designation to the very end.  
Yuri pursed her lips, and tried to figure out how to best explain her thoughts – explain them, that was, in a way that complimented Natsuki's own, like she _wanted_ to do.  
  
“Often times, I think... _Commercially viable_ films, like this...”  
  
“Tsch, you totally say those like they're dirty words...”  
  
“Well! It, they – they can be. But, I mean. In this case... There's a desire to have everything be simple. I hate – simplicity. Not minimalism, but... Here is the enemy. Hate them. Here is the hero; adore them. That sort of... Ugh. _Ugh!_ ”  
  
Yuri's high-minded words collapsed upon themselves, and she petulantly kicked the (empty) seat in front of her.  
… Sayori, who'd been lost in thought, mostly, chipped in at that.  
  
“I don't know if I'd go so far as to say that this is a commercially... Viable? That word. I don't think this film was meant to be viewed as a product.”  
  
“Oh, you're defending it? I – I expected better of you, Sayori...”  
  
Yuri giggled, making it _clear_ that she had no desire to get into a fight with either Natsuki or Sayori, but Sayori had developed that expression, that distant look in her eyes that always seemed to make her seem so much farther away then she was –  
  
“Like... Maybe it had a lot of different writers, and they each had their own wonderful vision. But time cut them all down, and now we just get – fragments of it. That's – really sad.”  
  
Neither Yuri or Natsuki had an answer to that, and the atmosphere thickened – slightly.  
  
Sayori lay back in her seat, hugging her arms around herself.  
Even with her jacket half-open, she looked – cold, and alone, and Yuri wondered for a moment if she should say something, do something, hug her –  
  
“But I guess we don't get to _know_ , huh? It's like a secret that we can only wonder at. And that's kind of neat, even if... Well, I guess I would've liked to see the film from the robots' point of view.”  
  
“Oooo! Yeah, that'd be cool, Sayori! Imagine a film where a robot wants to become a human, and it's – really sad and stuff, and the robot tries _so hard_ , but gets into fights with other robots...”  
  
Natsuki's eyes _glistened_ as she ranted off her ideal film, and once again it was just the three of them, having fun.  
  
But Yuri noticed the silent thoughtfulness, still reflected in Sayori's eyes long after they'd left the theatre behind them, and the way she glanced up at the sky and – didn't quite sigh, but acted if she very much _wanted_ to.  
  
The energy, her own undaunted energy had left her; and when she managed to win it back, it was slight and more subdued, and hidden behind an imperfect mask.  
  
A good movie was an excellent excuse to go get something to eat, however, and a Chinese-style restaurant had opened up, recently – Yuri used the term 'style' because it was very obviously the kind of restaurant that drew curious country-dwellers in with an exotic, yet pleasantly familiar menu...  
  
Though the mapo tofu did look...  
Really good...  
  
The three of them fell seated around a red table that might as well have been a park bench, drinking tea that didn't quite live up to her standard –  
  
She'd gotten rather good at it, and rather picky, as well...  
  
It felt a bit like they'd been friends for a long while, and yet simultaneously...  
  
Her eyes drifted from Sayori, who was staring at the table so hard that it looked as if her gaze might bore a hole in it, to Natsuki, who was patently trying to avoid glancing at either of them – her cheeks puffed out in a pout.  
  
There was a radio on one of the unused tables, playing a song that Yuri couldn't place; but it made her homesick for a home she didn't have, and that wasn't here.  
  
… Coughing, she placed her hands against each other, and then against the table.  
  
“Mmn, well... I... Uhmn...”  
  
It was a terrible start to any kind of statement, and interrupted by a waiter bringing them their orders.  
Any further attempt at conversation was pre-emptively stifled by the clatter of silverware and the shuffle of uncomfortable chairs.  
  
_Did she really know either of them?  
  
Did she – want to...  
  
_ “So, I was kinda thinking I might try to... I dunno, do something. Like, I've been feeling as if I need to – to bust out, to really... Punch above my weight...”  
  
Natsuki begin, a little cautiously -   
  
“Oh, _that_ wouldn't be difficult.”  
  
Yuri said with a sneer, without meaning to, without trying.  
She wasn't sure why she'd said it, let alone with that _tone,_ and the curl of her lips into a fighting cruelty.  
  
Natsuki's eyes widened, and she looked stunned – and, as always, genuinely hurt.  
  
Why did they always end up – fighting, like this...  
  
And more importantly, she had to – to apologise...  
  
“Tsch, whatever. Like I needed your opinion. Actually, maybe I'll just go, y'know? I – I don't even know why I'm here, in the first place...”  
  
“Hey... Please, you two...”  
  
Sayori whispered, and the fact that it was a whisper – that she had to strain her ears to hear it – made it all the more depressing.  
  
The blue-eyed girl whose smile stood out like the sun in springtime, was staring at her untouched plate.  
While Yuri and Natsuki had been eating to their hearts' content, Sayori had just been – staring at it, and occasionally shuffling food from one segment of the plate to the next.  
  
Her lips twitched, as if she wanted to smile, but couldn't.  
  
“I mean, aha, you're right... Both of you. I'm trying to force you to be friends again – “  
  
“ _Again?”  
  
_ Yuri's eyes widened and narrowed in rapid succession, the familiar tinge of paranoia returning with a vengeance.  
Had Natsuki – confided in Sayori, without telling her?  
And how much _had_ she said, and –  
  
“Mmn. It's stupid. I'm – stupid. I guess, I'll just... We'll see each other at school again, okay..?”  
  
Sayori mumbled, and Yuri hated herself for jumping to conclusions.  
Like she did; like she always did.  
  
Natsuki jumped to her feet, lips set in a sad frown, and her arms whirling out in front of her like a tiny windmill.  
  
“Hey, please don't go, Sayori! I'm just a jerk who fights with Yuri for no reason, it's not her fault, I mean – “  
  
“It _is_ my fault, you're – you're fine, Natsuki! Sayori, please...”  
  
“Ehehe... You two are too good to me. Anyway, I'm not feeling so great, anyway, so... Maybe we'll try something like this again, when the time is right, okay? Right now, I'm just... I think it'd be easier to just call it a night, don't you?”  
  
But Yuri knew she had to do something, and frowned.  
  
It was her turn to rise to her feet, already having parceled out their payment for half-eaten food; and just as quickly as she'd done that, she'd rise to the occasion.  
She had to – to do something, right...  
  
“... Sayori. I... I know you're probably feeling a little disappointed in us, right now...”  
  
“No. _It's not either of you..._ ”  
  
Whispered Sayori in reply, but neither Natsuki or Yuri noticed the way those words hung in the air, desperate to be noticed, themselves.  
  
Yuri clasped her hands together and tried to smile like Sayori did – all bright lines and reassuring contours, those little sincerities that made her friends feel welcomed, and at home, and loved.  
  
But in the dim light of the restaurant, she knew that her sunken eyes and stringy hair and terrible fashion held her back, just like her body held her back, just like _everything did –  
  
_ “I've got... An idea, so... Let's try to keep going, just a little bit, okay?”  
  
“All right. I guess just giving up wouldn't be very fun, would it? Ehehehe... Sorry for being such a killjoy...”  
  
They left the restaurant, and that springtime darkness leftover from winter had already made the sky seem heavy and dark.  
Natsuki kept hovering nearby her side, as if she wanted to say something, but wasn't sure how to say it with Sayori present.  
  
… She managed to find at least _some_ of her words as Yuri navigated them into the karoake lounge with pinpoint accuracy.  
  
“C'mon, Yuri?! This can't be your big plan – “  
  
“It's not, really. I just thought this would be fun! Don't... Don't you think, Sayori? Just for a bit, I mean... And of course, if you really want to leave...”  
  
But she could tell that Sayori _did_ want to leave, and was simply present because she also wanted to _stay_ – for the sake of them, probably, which only hurt more.  
Sayori glanced from the mic to their faces, and managed a half-hearted smile.  
  
“Well, I guess I don't mind a _few_ songs...”  
  
_And that was all the opening she needed.  
  
_ Soon, a few songs had turned into two hours worth of killed time; Sayori's voice ranging from heaven-sent to cracked and chipped and contralto as she played air-guitar to Natsuki's attempt at beat-boxing.  
Natsuki tried a few songs, too, for that matter – though she seemed content just to loiter and make fun of Yuri's own singing voice, which never drifted past what Yuri herself considered...  
  
An _elegant_ kind of hoarse.  
  
But in the end, the atmosphere from before had been _reclaimed,_ if only for awhile; and though whatever grand plans Sayori had dreamt up might not have been achieved this time, at least the three of them –  
  
Whatever sorrow had cast its thrall over Sayori, she was _happy,_ right now.  
  
And perhaps, that was all that could be hoped for.  
  
Laughing, Sayori lay back up into the sofa and smiled contently at the two of them, twiddling her fingers against one another as they fought for control of the mic.  
  
“You know, ehehe... I always end up wishing that moments like this could go on, forever. That we could just keep playing with each other instead of having to think about the future, though, I think it's important _to_ think about it, I mean...”  
  
Natsuki snatched the mic, and turned away from Yuri's clawing fingertips.  
Her broad grin softened from a victorious confidence, and she gave Sayori a little tap on the shoulder.  
  
“Of course it's important to think about things like that. If you're not paying attention to your future, you're going to make all sorts of stupid mistakes. Yuri and I'd talked about that – “  
  
“But it was, was a conversation between the two of us – “  
  
Whined Yuri, a little petulantly, and Natsuki snorted at her in reply, shoulders shrugged.  
  
“Sure, it was a conversation held in... Confidence. But, ya know? A lot of times, sharing things is a sign that you _trust_ somebody. And since Sayori trusted us, well...”  
  
“ _Oh..._ ”  
  
Yuri wasn't sure she agreed; the idea of revealing too much of yourself didn't sit right with her. It felt like a convenient excuse to talk and talk and talk about things that didn't matter, although...  
  
_Perhaps that, itself, was a remnant of how people had viewed her..?  
  
_ “Well! You two are just the best! But I'm okay, I really am! I was more just thinking that, it'd be great if we had an excuse to hang out more at school, wouldn't it? Since – who knows where we'll end up in the future...”  
  
“University?”  
  
Natsuki responded dryly, and took her place against the sofa, snuggling up against it as if it were a stuffed animal, rather than a slightly dingy lounge recliner.  
  
“Ehehe, well, that's the plan, but – I actually haven't applied to anywhere, yet, so...”  
  
“You should.”  
  
Said Yuri, firmly, her expression dour.  
  
“I, I mean... Sayori, you're probably the smartest of us. I mean – you're certainly the most, er, emotionally adaptable...”  
  
“And what does that mean? I'm the most flexible, in every way! But, oh, yeah! Sayori, you're crazy smart, so! If you applied somewhere, I'd fight in the exams right alongside you!”  
  
“You two...”  
  
Her eyes weren't just the colour of sky, now; but glistened with translucent tears.  
Sayori wiped at them absentmindedly, smiling gently. Her cheeks were a rosy red, and she looked as if she had a million things she _wanted_ to say, but didn't know where to start.  
  
… So Natsuki continued, looking thoughtful.  
  
“I mean – I don't know if I even really want to go to university. I know what I want to do. I kind of always have? And I just – it's the matter of getting there. I don't know how, ugh... But I'll figure it out. I've – I've gotta!”  
  
“Your confidence really inspires me, Natsuki. I... I wish I could feel as certain about... Anything, as you do.”  
  
Mumbled Yuri, and Natsuki shot her a determined glare.  
  
“Hey! You absolutely _can!_ I mean, I wouldn't waste my time arguing with somebody I didn't feel was capable of holding their own weight, and even when we fight, you feel like you're on even footing, don't you?”  
  
“W, well, a little – “  
  
“Right! That's why both of you need to follow your hearts! Heh. I know, I know, my advice is amazing, you can thank me later – “  
  
“Ooo, I'll do that... But I really _am_ tired, you two... Ugh, I wish we didn't have class...”  
  
Sayori yawned, and though it wasn't that late, Yuri had to admit that she felt a little tired, herself.  
A glance at the clock on the wall revealed it was – _significantly later_ than she'd planned, and Yuri coughed.  
  
“Uhmn... Uhmn, there's one more thing, though. I actually – brought something, it... It shares the name of one of my favourite... Fictional heroes, so...”  
  
Blushing a red to compliment the bottle of white wine she'd smuggled in her baggy sweater, Yuri unleashed it upon her unsuspecting friends!..  
To a rather disappointingly unexcited reaction, though Natsuki's snickering –  
  
“Yeah, no. My old man hasn't turned me off alcohol entirely, mind, but I'm not feeling it right now. I mean, and if I showed up after drinking? Forget it. He'd just know.”  
  
“O, ooh... I hadn't thought of it like that...”  
  
“Hey, no damage done. I mean – maybe some other time? Even though you really shouldn't be tempting cute girls like Sayori with that sort of thing!”  
  
“If you think I'm cute, it's only because you're the cutest, Natsuki!”  
  
“... No I'm not..!”  
  
Grumbled Natsuki, but if she sounded a _little_ happy, that was just fine, too.  
Still – the minute hand on the clock had inched forward a little more, and Natsuki's lips scrunched up.  
  
“Actually, I guess I oughta go. I don't wanna, but... It'd be for the best if I could get back a little early. Is that – “  
  
“It's fine.”  
  
Whispered Yuri, encouragingly, as Sayori got up, took a few teetering steps over...  
And gave Natsuki a bone-breaking hug.  
  
“Thanks so much for making my evening brighter, Natsuki! I'm sorry I can be so clumsy, and so needy, but hanging out with the two of you, just – I feel so happy, so... Let's try to do this again, okay..?!”  
  
“Geeze, it's n-not like I'm going anywhere, okay?! Just home!”  
  
Natsuki struggled and finally managed to wriggle her way free, panting for a few seconds before subduing her blush and giving them both a confidant smile.  
  
“Anyway. Yeah! This'll totally be the first of our misadventures, I promise!”  
  
Then, stopping only to wave, and wave, and wave again – her form retreated closer and closer to the door, and Yuri could almost feel the night air eager to intrude from underneath it.  
And just as Natsuki seemed ready to disappear into the hungry night, her lips pursed up, and she turned to them and said –  
  
“Just... The two of you... Don't get up to too much fun while I'm gone, okay? I – I don't want to miss any of it... So, promise..!”  
  
Whether they promised or not, or she'd heard it or not, it didn't matter –  
And her memory failed there, no matter how much she wanted to believe she'd said the right thing.  
  
**Desperately.  
  
** But that left just her and Sayori and the bottle of wine, and that familiar sorrow had traced its way back onto Sayori's face.  
  
“Er... Do you think we should go, too, maybe keep an eye on her...”  
  
“I don't think Natsuki'd like that. Anyway... It, it isn't as if there's much we can do besides be her friends. That's – usually how these things are, so...”  
  
Sayori frowned, and clearly didn't accept that.  
  
But Yuri knew well the hidden truth of things; that all people were essentially monsters, and that nothing could be done to alter that simple fact.  
And even if it wasn't the _truth_ , the comforting lie of it enveloped her like a sickly cloak, and coated her tongue in that unintentional venom.  
  
“... A, anyway, do you want to have some of this? Since it's – just the two of us, it'd be a shame for it to... To go to waste...”  
  
“No. Not really. I think I might home, too...”  
  
_She didn't want to admit how sad that made her; how much she wanted it all to go on forever, as well; how much she wanted to see Sayori smile, and Natsuki smile, and most of all – how much she wanted to smile herself.  
But Yuri knew that there was nothing she could say to force Sayori's hand, and even if there had been...  
No matter how cruel she could be, she wasn't that kind of person.  
  
And the thought filled her with a surprising emotion that she'd all but forgotten – **pride.  
  
**_ “W, well... In that case, do you mind if I walk you back? I don't want to just sit here and karoake sadly, all on my lonesome...”  
  
Sayori's melancholy vanished in an instant, vanished so quickly that _she_ seemed surprised, as well; and perhaps she was.  
But the smile that replaced that sorrow was wide and mischievous and burning with enthusiasm, and made Yuri want to smile, too.  
  
“I sure don't! I'd get lonely, too! Walking back on my own, I mean. Whew, just let me do a few stretches – I love karoake, but why are these places always so constrained? I mean, were they expecting us to sit on each others' laps, kind of like a chain of girly pillows, or something...”  
  
“Matryoshka. Like... Matryoshka dolls...”  
  
“ _Yeah!_ Like Matttroyoshkosh dolls!”  
  
Her raw pride at that pronunciation, even if it cut through Yuri's attempts at being worldly like a knife of (pseudo?)-obliviousness, was charming, too.  
  
Chuckling, Yuri stood up to her full height; wincing and rubbing at her back.  
  
“Oh, you must be pretty sore...”  
  
Sayori mumbled, apologetically, and Yuri shrugged, quickly glancing to the side and fiddling with her hair.  
  
“It's... It's not a a big deal. Honestly, I should probably be moving around a bit more...”  
  
Outside, the air was not just cool, but _cold.  
  
_ Yuri felt as if the springtime hadn't truly understood that it was supposed to bringing with it the warmth and life of summer; and the night had a mysterious fog that made streets blend together, and rows of interchangeable houses fuse together, as shadows in the mist.  
  
Sayori shivered, and zipped up her jacket, and Yuri wanted to say something cutting about how practical her sweater had turned out to be – but, that was rather undermined by how chilly her feet were –  
  
“I like weather like this. It feels magical. Not really happy, or sad. Like – anything could happen.”  
  
Her tone as she said it was quiet and reflective.  
As if Sayori couldn't fully believe the weather, herself – or that she'd enjoyed most of the evening, and made it through the worst of it with the ability to smile intact.  
  
“... For me, it's not as lovely as snow and... And a blunt cold. I don't like how lively spring is. How it – it heralds all sorts of new things, new lives being created...”  
  
“You just don't like all the birds and insects, huh, Yuri?”  
  
“D, damn, you caught me...”  
  
Replied Yuri, tiptoeing around the statement, the white of her toothy grin devoured and obscured by the dark around them.  
A dim shape in the distance receded; one that might as easily have been an animal as a human being.  
  
“... I'm the s, sort of person who finds it all very... Distracting, I guess. _Annoying,_ there we... There we go...”  
  
“Oh, but it's so cool to think of all the new opportunities out there! Spring flowers and sudden storms and baby birds!”  
  
Even in the darkness, Yuri could make out the spire of Sayori's house looming in front of them.  
And Sayori whipped her keys from her pocket – dropped them against the ground with an embarrassed frown – and then twirled them adroitly between her fingers as she plucked them back up.  
  
Her key slid neatly into the lock, and the door opened.  
  
Sayori paused in it, obscured by the darkness of her house, and the darkness of the cold spring night, around them.  
  
Whether she was smiling, or frowning, it was hard to say.  
  
“... Can I tell you something kind of weird, Yuri? I don't – I don't know, but now I can't get it out of my head, and I feel like if I don't say it, I'm gonna burst, but I don't want you to think badly of me, so...”  
  
“Please. Say – Say whatever you like. I promise, I won't... Think badly of you. Not _ever..!_ ”  
  
Moments trickled by, or perhaps seconds; it was hard to say.  
And Sayori was silent, and in the dark, it was hard to see anything but her face, everything below it having been devoured by the shadows of her half-open door.  
  
Finally, she spoke.  
  
“Isn't there something kind of beautiful when you find a baby bird fallen from the nest, too?”  
  
She wasn't sure how to respond.  
A chill traveled down her spine, and she wasn't sure why – for she agreed, of course, but it wasn't the sentiment itself that bothered her, but...  
  
There was something else; something greater.  
  
Almost at once, she and Sayori glanced to the side, into the great and consumptive darkness around them; but if there were strange shapes out there, or something that was watching, listening – it was gone now.  
  
Had never really existed at all.  
  
Suddenly, Sayori started to laugh, and Yuri did, too – after awhile.  
  
“Gosh, I'm sorry. That sounded so – so morbid? Not at all like me!.. I mean, I stand by it, but I don't – I hope you don't think...”  
  
“I promised I wouldn't think – “  
  
“Not at all!? Oh, no, what have I done..!”  
  
“That's not what I promised, Sayori... I'll... Of course I'll keep thinking, but, uhmn... I mean to say that, sometimes it's the things that we keep inside of us that we need to talk about the most. Anyway, I like – a bunch of strange things, so...”  
  
“Yeah. Well, uhmn... I'd ask you inside, but... I really am tired, so... I'll see you at school, tomorrow?”  
  
“... P, please. That sounds lovely. I hope – I hope you had a lovely night, as well, Sayori.”  
  
“I definitely did, you better believe it! And I feel like the future is gonna be a lot better, for all three of us! I don't know why, but I've been checking my lucky star out in the paper, and – doesn't it feel like the world's changing? Finally turning in our direction?”  
  
That was such an unusual statement, to say nothing of a sentiment, that Yuri almost wanted to ask about it; but she was feeling optimistic, actually, and – well, she was tired, herself.  
For now?  
  
A smile would suffice.  
  
“Maybe they... Maybe it truly is! Good night, Sayori..!”  
  
Sayori waved, and the door shut; replete with the thunderous slink of chains, one after the other after the other after the other.  
Yuri placed her hand against the door, without thinking – and left it there.  
  
Her calloused fingers slowly trailed down the wood, and she smiled to herself.  
  
As to the walk home, it was peaceful.  
Whatever she'd seen – thought she'd seen, against the backdrop of the black sky, it hadn't felt hostile, not something she needed to keep...  
Alert, against.  
  
There were no devils here, no shadows and demons in the realm of men.  
Or – however that particular witticism had went...  
  
Smiling at the thought of a day that had went almost _well,_ almost _entirely_ well...  
  
Her feet carried her along familiar roads and familiar streets.  
The Yamamura family always left their porchlight on; perhaps for her benefit, or perhaps to create the illusion of their presence, or perhaps simply because they could.  
  
Early spring moths were drifting under the light, and she allowed herself a few moments to watch their delicate dance; the tiny wingbeats almost entrancing.  
  
But then it was her own door, and her own chains, that called out to her; and like the moths, she was pulled to it as if through a compulsion not entirely her own.  
  
Dust littered the floor, and the inside of her house was – as always – entirely silent, and entirely alone.  
Yuri exhaled, and her breath sifted the hardwood's fine coat of dust into the air, each particle only just visible, if she squinted her eyes...  
  
The tapping of her feet as she walked into the kitchen was pleasant, and almost made her feel as if she was alive, and not just – living by the moment.  
  
A familiar ritual of selecting a dried noodle product, the right amount of water to rehydrate it into something resembling food, and then the brewing of tea, followed.  
She wasn't even especially hungry, but perhaps she was superstitious; and Yuri wondered if maybe she might destroy her friends' happiness, somehow, if she didn't obey her own idiosyncratic rituals...  
  
Steam rose from the heated noodles as she lay her head against the chair's support, and stared up at the ceiling.  
Enigmatic as always, it offered no answers – only further questions.  
  
But she felt content, for once, in a way that she hadn't felt content for quite some time.  
Her own future was still uncertain; and she had so many things to do to make up for lost time, to make up the promises and duties she owed her parents.  
  
Yet – she could, and she _would.  
  
_ Her room, when she finally returned to it, no longer felt entirely alien to her.  
Unlike the rest of the house, it was no longer littered with dust.  
As she flopped against the bed, laying against the sheets with a light grin, she took it in.  
  
The collection of incenses and lighters against the crate in the corner.  
  
The closet, with her odd and (at odds) collection of clothing, so much of which didn't fit, or hadn't been worn in a very long time.  
  
And her personal computer, often ignored in favour of a good book.  
  
It was the only room in the house she truly took care of, but there was no reason that it had to stay like that, was there..?  
  
Yuri's heart began to beat faster and faster, alight with a fiery determination that she didn't feel she could quench.  
Even if she'd wanted to snuff it out, this fire was _her,_ all of her – the good and the bad.  
  
Perhaps it'd been dormant for too long, and now that it was rekindled...  
  
She rose to her feet and undressed, before pulling the covers so firmly over herself that she felt as if they might engulf her; and her head peeking above the dark-violet shades she'd grown to hate, but had started to...  
  
Not mind...  
  
Yuri's grin was as fierce and determined as anyone's might be.  
  
It was true that she didn't know what her plans for the future were, either; and her grades were certainly worse than either Natsuki's or Sayori's, probably.  
But they – they were her cherished friends, weren't they...  
  
And if they could do well, then so could she.  
  
She'd spent so much time being concerned with what she couldn't do, that she'd forgotten everything that she _could_.  
  
Rolling over on her side, she was surprised at how quickly sleep found her – but not unhappy.  
Her dreams were pleasant, filled of images of pink candyfloss and endless blue skies and clouds of mapo tofu.  
  
Even in her dreams, she somehow knew that tomorrow?  
Tomorrow, she would wake rested, and happy, and fulfilled – perhaps with less of the dark circles beneath her eyes, and the feeling of wrongness about her.  
  
But, even in her dreams...  
  
Somehow, she also knew that the anomaly she'd experienced was the first, and the last – and that the very next day, they'd drift apart as if it had never happened, and never would again.


	17. XVII. Paradise Lost

Summer was almost over.  
  
All the high-minded promises she'd made to herself had died, in those free-falling days.  
She hadn't reverted to her old habits, or found herself lost to time, and loneliness; but it felt as if the passage of time itself had left her behind.  
  
Whenever she saw Natsuki, they talked for a bit, sometimes even had fun; but then they inevitably argued, and it felt as if it was harder and harder for her to find common ground with the shorter girl...  
  
The shorter girl who was becoming a fine young woman, in her own way.  
  
Friends changed, of course, and people changed – and in her heart, Yuri had known that the world she'd found, the world that had started to feel comfortable for her had been – in the end – an illusion.  
  
But Sayori, too, had been distant.  
  
Whenever Yuri attempted to talk to her, the few times they crossed paths, she made – excuses, embarrassedly, and distanced herself all too quickly.  
That, too, was fine – after all, Sayori had other friends...  
  
That elusive childhood friend she'd mentioned, now and again –  
  
Yet, Yuri felt like they were both avoiding her...  
Even as she rarely diverted from the familiar route that was her house, the sunlit road, the convenience store...  
And back again.  
  
Her opportunities to meet them, or meet other people, she'd all but sabotaged herself – and Yuri knew that, but couldn't quite bring herself to accept the idea.  
  
For if it was so – that meant that it was her fault, and if it was her fault...  
What else was?  
  
But...  
  
Not all of it was _bad,_ really.  
She'd – talked to her father for more than a handful of minutes, possibly the first time she'd done so in years – she'd stopped keeping track.  
  
And it was exactly like she remembered it, he was exactly like she'd remembered – nervous and slightly excitable and happy to talk about everything, always dispensing compliments even as he – just like her mother – tried to find out what had changed with their distant daughter...  
  
She kept her secrets well, though; it was the tragedy of all children to outgrow their parents.  
  
The first day of her last term at high-school was oddly somber.  
It felt more like autumn than summer, and there was a false glow to the sunlight that made it seem artificial; like something you'd see in a filtered photograph, or the backdrop of a movie at the cinema...  
  
Ah.  
  
She'd heard the theatre had shut down.  
  
But then again, a lot of places had.  
  
In the end, it wasn't a matter of what died – but when.  
  
Her heart felt sluggish in her chest, and she stared up into the sky.  
Blue, cloudless, horizons stared back at her – azure fields that no human could hope to reach on their own.  
  
Without thinking, she held her fingers to the sky – and watched the light filter through them.  
  
…  
  
School moved by in a blur, and Yuri could barely recall what had been taught that day, or whether or not she'd cared about it; how well she'd done, or hadn't done.  
None of it seemed to matter, really, and, she already knew the truth of it –  
  
There wasn't a future for her, not really.  
  
But it was fine.  
Her parents were still doing well, and she could just – continue to exist in that quiet life, in that quiet house, until one day, she drew to a stop, too.  
  
A final line in her own story.  
  
Without thinking, she smiled.  
The lines of her smile were like light, too – but the clouds of her teeth obscured their sky, and if anybody had known why she was smiling...  
  
_Yuri wondered what they might think.  
  
_ She heard the splash of water before she'd made it to the school's pool, the excited talk of students swimming, and all that echoed around the room.  
And she hadn't meant to trace her way back to the room, but –  
  
Perhaps she'd wanted to pay it one last farewell.  
  
There was no hope she'd be able to take the hobby back, but...  
With a smile, Yuri doffed her slippers, and knelt to her feet, arms around them.  
She watched the swimmers, and marveled at how beautiful they were –  
  
Free and light and fair.  
  
Her eyes shut, and she smiled wider.  
  
_It had been something she'd thought about a lot, recently.  
Her own death.  
  
Not that it had to come soon; she was...  
Content, these days.  
Always content.  
  
Neither truly happy, nor sad.  
Neither lonely, nor overwhelmed.  
There was a pleasant absence here, and she could feel the ghosts of dead books, surrounding her – welcoming her.  
  
She'd made it so far.  
  
The future, would...  
  
_ Yuri couldn't have said what caused her to open her eyes; she was lost in comfortable thought, and almost sleepy; nobody was really paying attention to her, or had called her name; it was just luck, a roll of the dice.  
  
It was just luck that led her to that moment – to the sight of the athletic young woman doing stretches by the water, laughing and joking with a crowd of admirers...  
  
Before executing a perfect dive into the pool, and swimming as if she _belonged_ there.  
  
She could hear herself panting, as she stared – transfixed  
Water glistened and clung to the girl's shoulder as she swam, the only point of reference between her body and the waves the piercing glint of those emerald eyes...  
  
And she swam a lap, and another lap, and another...  
As easily as if it were a fantasy, or a dream.  
Yuri continued to pant, her eyes dilated to tiny points, unblinking until she could feel the strain pulsating in the back of her head.  
  
Finally, the swimmer pulled up against the wall, laughing jauntily and shaking her hair free from a swimming cap; the long, burnished hair falling freely to her side.  
  
“ _Whe-ew!_ That sure was something... I can't believe how exhausting swimming is, can you?”  
  
One of her companions muttered something, and Yuri couldn't half hear what she said; didn't _care_ what the other girl had said, only cared to hear the sound of the young woman's voice again.  
  
But before they could say a word to one another, she'd left – leaving Yuri, alone once more, to sweat by herself and wonder at the enigma wearing the shape of a woman.  
  
Rising unsteadily to her feet, she approached one of the on-duty coaches, and asked her nervously if she knew the name of the young woman who'd been present earlier; to which the young adult she'd asked snorted as if Yuri was blind.  
  
“You must be the only person here who doesn't know Monika. Are you jokin'...”  
  
She stammered that she wasn't, and tried to do more – to smile or to nod or to remember how to act _human_ , when all she could think of was...  
  
But.  
_But._  
Now she had a _name.  
  
_ The next few days were spent quietly following the young woman from the pool – who apparently, wasn't just a member of the swim team, but the track team, as well...  
And several other teams besides.  
  
She had a legion of fans, both men and women, who surrounded her at all hours; eager to talk at her every chance they got.  
And Monika seemed content to let them do so, and to listen...  
Or at least content enough to not pay too much attention.  
  
Yuri simply watched, and the longer she watched, the more she felt she knew.  
  
Monika came to school early; and left late.  
She got incredible grades, and played several games, well.  
She liked videogames, and always knew the latest and most popular types.  
  
_Everybody loved her.  
  
And despite the fact that she'd never met Monika before, even though it was unthinkable for her to have spent so long without noticing her, Yuri realised that she **loved Monika too.  
  
**_ It became a game of sorts, for her.  
  
Finding a way to stay out of the light, and stay comfortable in Monika's shadow; though the fact that she was _still_ taller than Monika gave her a bit of pride, as well as proving something of a challenge.  
  
She saw all the men stuttering and trying to think of ways to confess to Monika – brushed off gently with all the skill Yuri'd never had.  
  
And she saw all the nervous 'fans' who loved her 'platonically' watch Monika leave with the same starry-eyed devotion that she...  
Yuri ran her tongue over her lips, and frowned.  
Something about this wasn't right, and she wasn't sure what it was, but it didn't matter –  
  
Because this was her weakness, after all.  
  
… It always had been.  
  
The next day, she stayed home and tried to find a book to help her calm her nerves; ransacking shelf after shelf of familiar allies, none of whom seemed to have any advice.  
And the flutter of paper as they fell to the floor was hypnotic; and eventually, Yuri fell amongst them – simply listening to her own breathing, harsh and erratic.  
  
… It was then that the doorbell rang.  
  
From outside the peephole, she could just make out her visitor – decked out in her school uniform, and somewhat nervously stepping from foot to foot.  
  
Yuri gulped back breath, and her fingers fidgeted against the chains.  
  
“H... Hello, there... Do I know you...”  
  
Outside the peephole, Monika's face split into a smile – the fisheye view of it becoming distorted and cut into lines of teeth and colour across her skin.  
  
“Nope! Well, but I've heard all about you from your friends!~ You're Mashiro, right... I was just talking to your neighbors, but, uhmn... Can I call you Yuri? It's such a pretty name!~”  
  
Already, Yuri could see why everyone fell for her; the easy manner in which she spoke, that devilish smile, her unshakable confidence...  
Everything about her seemed to indicate somebody who was happy with themselves, and completely willing to be _your_ friend and listen to _you...  
  
_ Pulling back from the peephole, Yuri trod a pattern in the dust as she searched for what she wanted to say.  
  
“... Yuri is fine... I... I d, don't mind being called that. But, my friends, you say...”  
  
_Would Natsuki have called her a friend, after all of their relationship's decay?  
_ … _Would Sayori?  
  
Had they ever truly been friends..?  
  
_ Monika laughed heartily, slicking back her hair – fingers dancing against a white ribbon that seemed like a cloud against the breeze.  
  
“Oho!~ Were you worried about them? They didn't say anything embarrassing, if that's what you're concerned about!~ Just that you were a bit lonely, and, I thought... Lonely people sometimes just need a friend, right?”  
  
… _Was she lonely?  
And – and was that even a bad thing, truly..?  
  
_ Yuri paused, her head aching so harshly that she felt certain there was something she was missing; something that might burst and collapse like a blood vessel, drowning out her vision but exposing something more – like a window, or a peephole, or the opening of an eye.  
  
But no matter how hard she thought, she couldn't figure out what it was...  
  
Slowly, the sensation faded.  
  
“I... O, oh... Well. Uhmn, I suppose someone as popular as you has better things to do, but I don't mind... Talking, for a bit...”  
  
“You know I'm popular?!~ Word really does spread fast, doesn't it? Oh, but I heard from a rumour-monger that I actually have a few stalkers – is that crazy, or what? In a small town like this, no less!..”  
  
Monika kept laughing as the first chain slid free with a cry of protest, then the next; and Yuri unlooped the third, and let the door open, stepping outside and shutting it behind her before Monika could let herself in.  
  
“... Oh, you – you can never tell who... What hearts hold dark secrets, in a place like this...”  
  
“Wow!~ That sounds really mysterious, Yuri!.. Or are you trying to confess to me that _you_ have a sinful heart..?”  
  
With a single wink, Monika had won her over, and Yuri could feel her breath clotting up in her veins; like her blood had frozen, or become something else, entirely, and the machinery of her had been hijacked, by this...  
  
Trying to keep her expression neutral, Yuri glanced away; the red flush of her cheeks clearly visible against her pale skin, and the unceasing light of summertime.  
  
“I... Hadn't meant it quite like that...”  
  
“Please don't let me make you feel uncomfortable. After all! That's not why I'm here!~ Hmn, but, the reason I came to visit is a bit awkward, so...”  
  
Monika pretended to glance in the same direction that Yuri had; towards the Yamamura household, next door.  
Faint lines of colour were just visible on the television through their windows; and the Yamamuras were old enough, now, that they often just spent all day...  
Watching the sound, and the light.  
  
Coughing, Monika ran her fingers through her hair, once more.  
  
“We-ell!~ The truth is, I'm kind of tired of all the attention I get. Especially since none of the hobbies I have are what _really_ interest me, you know?”  
  
“I... Might..?”  
  
“Right, right!~ Well – on a whim, after I met that cute lil' Sayori, I started to think... What if there was a club that I actually enjoyed? What if it was full of something we both enjoyed? And, see, she and I, we really hit it off...”  
  
A momentary pang of something – and whether is was jealousy, nervousness, fear, or bile, Yuri could not say – pulsated within her weakened machine.  
But even if Monika noticed, she ignored it.  
  
“... And that's when she asked me to talk about it with Natsuki. And I did, and it turned out we have the same interests! I mean, how cool is that... Well. But she's why I'm here now. She mentioned she won't join up, if you don't, so...”  
  
“What – what are you trying to sell me...”  
  
Yuri whispered, suspiciously, even as her heart sang.  
  
**Natsuki had wanted her to be present for something.  
Sayori hadn't forgotten her.  
And Monika...  
  
This incredible girl, wanted her to be part of, of...  
  
** “I'm not trying to sell you anything!~ Do I look like one of those new religious movement-types?~”  
  
Yuri laughed, nervously.  
  
… She'd been reading a certain book that was filled with quiet reflections on faith and death, recently; in her search to clarify her own feelings.  
  
_Portrait_ was hardly about religion, itself; but it was zealous, all the same.  
  
Monika didn't notice her nervous glance, however, or pretended not to.  
  
“My dream... For the last year of school, here... Is to have a Literature Club! Full of friendship and love and laughter and poetry! Where – people can be happy, I think. Even if a lot of people might not find the concept interesting, aha, ha – “  
  
Her fingers itched.  
The skin underneath her fingernails itched.  
And her throat itched, like she'd never drunk a day in her life – or she'd wandered in a blistering desert for years, and there was nothing that could fill the dull pain there.  
  
Yuri's eyes widened, and her lips parted, and she said nothing.  
  
“Oh, no... I guess I misread you, huh?.. Sorry, sorry!~ I know a lot of people find literature kind of gauche, but, well, that's just how it is – “  
  
“ **No.”  
  
** Monika said nothing, but if Yuri had been capable of noticing, truly noticing her expression, she might have seen the victorious smirk dance across her face.  
  
“I... I, I, I, I... I'd like nothing more than to be part of a literature club. It's all – All I've ever wanted is to have someone to talk to about, about all of this! About books and their meanings and the lives of – of...”  
  
She paused, waiting for Monika to chastise her, or to tell her that she was speaking too much.  
  
“Go on?~ But if you say 'lives of the saints', I'm gonna have to repeat myself, I'm not trying to induct you into a cult, or anything!~”  
  
This time, both of them laughed.  
  
“No. That's – that isn't it, at all. I just – I spend an incredible amount of time reading, and, er... Writing, too. So – I've dreamt about something like this for... For ages, and the idea of it has never come to me on my own, but I...”  
  
Yuri smiled softly, and brushed some hair out of her eyes.  
  
“... I'd absolutely adore a chance to read with the three of you. With – with you, Monika...”  
  
“Oho!~ Well, as long as you don't get too attached to me! I don't mind, I mean. But I'm kind of trying to hide from all my devotees... You know the type, right? You win a few little athletic awards, and suddenly – bam! They don't want to just relax and play videogames with you!”  
  
“I'm... Afraid I don't actually know a whole lot about that...”  
  
Yuri said, and it was perhaps a lie; not so much the statement about videogames, but...  
  
_How long ago had it been since she was a young girl?  
And how long ago had it been since she remembered the days when she had nothing at odds and everything in common with adventurers in the wild countryside, untamed and free..?  
  
_ Monika stared to her, head tilted askance, to her side.  
  
Her slight, lazy smile hinted at much – but said nothing.  
  
“But I think you _do,_ Yuri. Most people do, really... Oh, but I'm getting ahead of myself.”  
  
Sighing as if it couldn't helped, Monika held out her hand – and without knowing why, Yuri took it.  
Monika's fingers were soft and smooth – like she'd never worried a day in her life, and perhaps she hadn't –  
  
_Or perhaps she was just so much better at hiding it; like she seemed to be at everything.  
  
_ “All right, so!~ It'll be a little small, and I don't know if we're gonna find any other interested members, but... I want to create a place where people are happy sharing their works with each other!~ Stories and ideas, and poems...”  
  
Trailing off, Monika beamed – and Yuri did, too.  
  
_It seemed like such a wonderful, simple idea.  
Why hadn't she ever thought of it; why hadn't any of them ever thought of it?..  
  
_ Monika winked again, and her heart fluttered, like a torn page.  
  
“You seem remarkably adaptable. I don't think you're _nearly_ as shy as you pretend you are, Ms. Mashiro! Don't tell me... You really are wicked, huh? Oh, or are you just already excitedly planning your first poem..?”  
  
Her returned smile felt as light and as free as a feather, as Yuri responded.  
  
“I... I **am!** ”  
  
She spent the rest of the day wandering throughout town with Monika.  
To nowhere in particular; Monika seemed to have boundless energy, and a seemingly endless curiousity.  
  
Although she knew every twist and turn, every hidden secret in every forgotten alleyway, she also acted surprised at every tiny fact of the place that Yuri burbled nervously, trying to win some kind of affection or attention from the mysterious woman walking next to her, arms held against the back of her head.  
  
“So you don't see your parents much... That must be rough...”  
  
“It... I don't really think about it, anymore...”  
  
“Probably for the best. Overthinking things just leads you to tricky situations, right? Oh, unless you're overthinking the plot of a mystery novel! In which case you just might find a hidden truth!~”  
  
“M... Mystery novels... _Pah._ Most of them have... Predictable plots, and I've... Matched wits with enough detectives to know that... That I'm not overly thoughtful...”  
  
Yuri conceded with a slight, nervous laugh – _coquettish and false, because she loomed over Monika,_ _ **she**_ _was on the prowl_ _ **too.  
  
**_ “Eeeeh?~ I don't agree with that. You seem very thoughtful. I think everyone is – thoughtful, in their own ways. It's just that those ways rarely intersect, so you've got hundreds of millions of islands of people – all thinking they're utterly alone. _Oooo!_ Cotton candy! Ah, but I'm out of cash...”  
  
“I'll take care of it.”  
  
She didn't like the idea of being known solely for her access to her parents funds; but everything was fair in moments like these.  
  
Monika accepted the candyfloss gratefully, and nibbled at as they continued their journey down the streets, past shop after closed shop.  
  
Yuri could remember when they'd seemed never-ending and mysterious, like they'd last forever; and then when they'd hemmed her in, and felt confining.  
  
Now, they just felt sad – and abandoned.  
  
They walked past an old building, collapsed in on itself – the roof having fallen shut on what had once been a simple Japanese-style farmstead, though the fields had long since grown fallow.  
  
“HmmmMMmn!~ I've always wondered who lived here. A ghost, maybe? A scary ghost..?”  
  
Monika teased, and Yuri smiled faintly.  
  
_After all; she was an expert in ghosts.  
  
_ “Oh, I... I might actually know the answer to that, Monika. Uhmn, it's... The person who lived here was...”  
  
But Yuri was surprised to find that she couldn't remember the name of the old man who'd called the place home; and perhaps it didn't matter.  
Her mind felt pleasantly clear of all thought; and she laughed, idly, and they kept walking.  
  
The more rural part of town had improved a bit as the wilds shrunk and it grew up from a farming village into a retirement community.  
Sure, the houses here were still a bit ramshackle compared to the more modern 'comfortable' country homes in the residential district, but Natsuki's house wasn't awful...  
  
And there were other places she recognized here; at least one.  
But she hadn't spent a moment wasting time on it, or the person who'd lived there, and she wasn't about to start.  
Perhaps they'd left and made it to the city.  
Perhaps they'd died.  
  
Monika yawned, and glanced at the encroaching forest with a determined look on her face.  
Then...  
She whirled on her feet, and clasped Yuri's hand tightly.  
  
Yuri blushed, without thinking.  
  
“Hey. I wanna go exploring!~ You'll come with me, right?”  
  
She didn't have the courage to say yes, but she managed to nod, her heart pounding faster than the blush could spread across her face.  
  
Around them, trees stretched in every direction; and the sound of summer birds and insects and the whispering of the wind made her feel young again, at lost – but in love with the world, a world so vast that she might never truly understand it.  
  
Treebranches whipped at their skin, at Monika's uniform and her own somewhat ugly fashion choices (that Monika hadn't commented on, though she'd offered so many reassuring smiles), and ripped tiny cuts; but they proved she was alive.  
  
_Proved that **they** were alive.  
  
_ It was natural for the forest to close in – it always did.  
She'd forgotten, of course, but – it always did.  
  
Finally, Monika found an overhanging ledge by what had once been a creek, now dried from the summer or a diversion of the water table; and she neatly swept free dirt and leaves, and sat down against the forest floor, grinning.  
  
Yuri sat down next to her without a second though, smiling even through her luminescent blushes.  
  
“I know you probably think I'm kinda child-like with all this wandering, but – I really love nature. It always makes me appreciate being alive. When you're surrounded by it, you understand how alone you really are, don't you..?”  
  
She laughed, as if the comment was exceptionally funny – though Yuri didn't understand it.  
  
“Mmn, I – I don't really think that's child-like, Monika. Loving nature is... I also feel the same way. Honestly, I'd... The only other thing that I'd say I love more than reading was... Was wandering like this. But, you know... It's not really suitable, for somebody like me...”  
  
“Why would you say that?”  
  
Asked Monika, quizzically, and Yuri tried to think of an answer – but made the mistake of looking into eyes that were greener than any of the leaves from the trees above.  
  
They dwarfed you, and made you feel insignificant.  
If eyes led to the soul, then they could also trap you within it; and she had been trapped, bewitched by this girl, perhaps unintentionally...  
Yuri tried to remember to breath, but couldn't quite remember how.  
  
Her lips opened, and closed, but no words came out.  
  
“We-eelll!~ It's not business of mine. I'm just glad you're humouring a weird gal like me! And I'm excited to spend some time brainstorming with you and Sayori and Natsuki! She's gonna be the best VP, I can _feel_ it! And, we're gonna... I don't know what we're gonna do, yet – “  
  
Monika's excited tone didn't end as they traced their way out of the woodlands.  
  
Nor did it leave her mind as Yuri bid her farewell, re-chained the doors, made doubly-certain that they were locked, and _ran_ up to her room, shut that door, locked it, wished that it had been boltable, sealable, a perfect prison – anything to cut the image of the day from her head and preserve it, perfectly, behind wax, behind glass, behind _something_ that didn't age or decay –  
  
Slowly, every so slowly, she calmed down.  
  
_A literature club...  
  
_ The ceiling stared at her, and she stared at it, in return, defiantly.  
  
_It made so much sense; everything she'd experienced, every dearly held memory and mistake, every punishment she'd endured because of her own weakness or, or the way she'd brought on attention, all of it had been in preparation for this moment. Whether it was a reward or a punishment – this was **it.  
  
**_ Dust gathered around the air in her room as she breathed in tune with her heart, watching the particles dance around her.  
And there was one last routine she knew, that she had learned to crave above all others –  
  
The shock of silver as she freed the knife was exhilarating.  
  
Her reflection, distorted against metal, stared back at her.  
And her eyes were like glass, fogged and violet; and she wondered, for a minute, what her fate would be.  
  
But it didn't matter, because once more – **she was truly alive.**


	18. . Love & Death

_once I saw a cat_

_it fell amongst the rubble_

_discarded from forlorn buildings_

_that I had foolishly sought_

_as friends_

 

_we stared at one another_

_the cat and I_

_her eyes milk-white mirrors_

_opposing my own_

_fingers that sought her weak neck_

 

 _breath failed her_  
  
_as it failed me_

_love_

_yet I go –_  
  
_to dream of you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, at the very end. I'd wanted to write more - two chapters for Monika, with both of her other 'chapter novels' having to do with devilry. I was thinking Faust and the Master and Margarita!.. Anyway. In addition to the fact I'll probably be gone for awhile, I wanted to have this done - and readable. Ao3 seems like a great site, but it destroys formatting. Is there a word program that writes in a way that Ao3's rich text editor can parse..?
> 
> There are a lot of notes I want to mention. This and that. Things like how Sayori never confirms that the cats made it; and that I purposely never mentioned them again. A lot of this - I really hope that if the reader re-reads it, they notice the details like that.
> 
> In closing, here's a list of the chapter books:
> 
> The Decay of the Angel / Yukio Mishima  
> The Perks of Being a Wallflower / Stephen Chbosky  
> Moscow-Petushki / Venedikt Yerofeyev  
> We Can Remember It for You Wholesale / Philip K. Dick  
> The Long Valley / John Steinbeck (specifically "The Chrysanthemums")  
> Ice / Anna Kavan  
> Dream of the Red Chamber / Cao Xueqin  
> The Tale of the Imperial Capital (Teito Monogatari) / Hiroshi Aramata  
> Alas, Babylon / Pat Frank  
> Speak, Memory / Vladimir Nabokov  
> The Brothers Karamazov / Fyodor Dostoyevsky  
> Titus Groan / Mervyn Peake  
> Coin Locker Babies / Ryu Murakami  
> The Little Prince & Wind, Sand and Stars / Antoine de Saint-Exupéry  
> The Wild Geese / Mori Ōgai  
> Paradise Lost / John Milton  
> Patriotism/ Yukio Mishima


End file.
